


A Round Sung By Dreaming Children

by Garnet_Sekai



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Ambassador Frisk, Autistic Frisk, Boundaries, Growing Up, Hugs, Multi, Other, POV Second Person, Past Child Abuse, Post-Canon, Recovery, Self-Harm, Three Years Later, Touch Aversion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-16
Updated: 2017-11-22
Packaged: 2018-12-30 08:48:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 67,580
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12105075
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Garnet_Sekai/pseuds/Garnet_Sekai
Summary: The Barrier breaks. Time passes. Life resumes after centuries of war and death. A look, three years later, at how the world has grown, and how the lives of the monsters who live in it have changed - as well as the lives of the children who helped to bring them back into it.





	1. Verse 1 - Frisk ~ Flight of the Ambassador

**Author's Note:**

> This is a story I've been working on for a while now. I haven't written all the parts for the third and final verse just yet, but with the anniversary upon us (when the heck did it become two years since then?!) I might as well do my part to celebrate by putting up the first verse with the promise of more to come.
> 
> Additional content warnings (subject to additions) for this piece are reference to and discussion of past child abuse (as noted above) and a past toxic codependent relationship, antiziganism and associated slurs, misgendering, intrusive thoughts and minor flashbacks, discussion of suicide, self-hatred, self-doubt, and self-denial, oblique reference to the Holocaust, some discussion of medication, and some casual ableist language.

There's a weight against you when you wake up, and you're a little surprised that it's not the reason you did. At first, you wonder if it's just your memory acting up again - you certainly spend more than enough time close to people to remember it without trying, and you _were_ just dreaming of dancing in Mettaton's arms. (You really wish sometimes you could make an appearance on his show, but you've yet to make the schedules line up just right.)

(Your mind almost instantly brings up the relevant meme, and you groan internally. There is no such thing as too much time with Chara, but somehow you've spent it anyway.)

When you're sure the weight is real, you wonder briefly if Asriel snuck in again. It kind of bugs you when he does that. Not that you'd ever say no to cuddling him, but you're never sure whether he's hugging you or hugging "nicer Chara" even after all this time.

But then you remember Asriel went on ahead yesterday. It probably isn't Shelta either, he'd be staying with Dad and that's a pretty long trip alone and before sunrise just for cuddles. And Shelta probably would've woken you up so you could hug him back.

There's an easy way to check. You open your eyes and peek down. And once you do, you freeze, because right in front of your face is soft reddish chestnut hair that you'd know anywhere. Their arm is tucked around your shoulder, leaving their face mashed into the blankets over your chest, but there's no way you'd ever mistake them for anyone else.

You really, really want to cuddle them back, but you _think_ they're asleep. You can feel their chest rise and fall against you even through the blankets, and it's very slow and calm. If they're asleep, you can't ask if they're okay with you cuddling back. Sometimes it's not okay. Sometimes they need to hold on to someone but can't handle being held. And if they're asleep, you don't want to wake them. Especially not for something as silly as asking to cuddle them.

You also don't want your clock to wake them, though, and you can see already that it's going to do what you don't want it to in just a minute or two. It's hard to do it without moving, but you try to focus enough to send a few shining leaves over that way, and you eventually hear the little click of the alarm being switched off.

With a sigh, you settle back and relax, taking in the moment. It's been a few months now since you were finally able to get Chara and Asriel the lives they deserve, but this has never happened before. Actually, Chara seems even more touch-averse since they got a real body. You guess it makes sense; they could pretend, before, back when they were a warmth in your heart. Even when they took the wheel, it was your body still. Now it's theirs.

You miss having them in your head, honestly, and you really hate that you still feel that way. But it's worth it, giving that up so they can be themself again, and you've never thought that more strongly than now. Blankets or not, they're warm, warmer even than diving into a pile of laundry that Mom just finished drying with her magic, and their weight feels _right_ against you in a way that even the heaviest comforter can't match.

You love them, so much.

The trouble is, even if you turned off your alarm, there's a reason you turned it on in the first place, and that reason means you have to get out of bed. And there's definitely no way you can do that without waking up Chara, or giving up this feeling.

Thinking about it, you decide neither is okay. Asriel can help you figure out an excuse for being late, when you get there. This is more important to you. And honestly... you aren't looking forward to today anyway. You'd much rather just... lay here, with Chara, until _they're_ ready to get up. Or maybe longer than that. You lay as still as you can and close your eyes.

"... Free, you idiot." It's only a few minutes later that you hear someone say that, and you open your eyes to see a pair of beautiful red eyes inches away. "You think I don't know you've things to accomplish today? You don't have the time to waste here with me right now."

"You've... been awake the whole time, huh?" you manage, trying to play cool.

Chara rolls their eyes, and your heart does a little flutter. "I awoke shortly after you did."

You wilt a little. Chara's so sensitive to little changes. Of course you'd have woken them. "I don't wanna get up, Chara. Let's just cuddle a while. You almost never want to..."

Stupid. That was a _dumb_ way to explain it, and you know it. Thankfully, Chara just smiles. You're so lucky they understand your weird speech. "I know. Having my own body is... not something I am used to. Hugging you as myself is very different from when my projection was doing it." They pause, and you know there's something they aren't saying, but you can't push them. Not right now. "I know how much closeness means to you. I'm sorry you have to put up with me being so absurd. However, there is another issue at hand: you will _hate_ yourself later if you miss your plane for your own benefit. And I am running out of excuses to keep you from having to confess to Toriel."

"... can I at least hug you for a little?" you offer, because you know they are absolutely right.

Chara tucks themself in against you, and nuzzles in tightly. "You _may_ , Frisk," they say; it's muffled, but you know they're imitating Mom again. "I would not have invaded your bed if I were not willing to let you reciprocate." Their chuckle is warm against your neck. "No objections to an older child of my designation doing so?"

You snort, but you're already winding yourself tightly around them and pulling them into just the right spot to weigh you down. "Of course not. I trust you."

Chara presses in just a little closer. Their teeth nab the tiniest pinch of skin, right at the corner of your jawbone, and instantly your whole body is swimming with a feeling you have nothing you can compare to. "Good," they mumble softly. "Now that I know I can do so without waking you, I think I shall do it again, on occasion."

You give them a weak squeeze, but when Chara bites you like that you can barely move. "Only if you're not averse that night."

Chara squeezes a little tighter, and then lets go so they can perch themself over you. "Only if I will be able to sleep," they agree. "I did, this past night. However." Their lips are soft as they touch the tip of your round nose. "That said, you need to go and get ready, and quickly. I doubt there is much spare time before you risk missing your flight. In exchange, however, I promise most solemnly that, aversion or no, I will cuddle the _shit_ out of you when you return."

You lean up to wrap your arms around Chara's chest. You want to fling your arms around their neck and hold tight like you do with most of the people you love, but Chara can't stand people touching theirs. You think you have a bit of an idea why, but the reason you have that idea means you can't ask any more. Chara in turn presses the round curve of their chin against the top of your head. "Love you," you murmur into their sweater.

Chara laughs softly. "As unfathomable as every time you say that, but I believe you still."

You sigh. "I really don't want to go. I don't ever want to go there. Can't we make Asri..." You realize before Chara has time to tense, and hastily add "el" to that. "Asriel. Can't we make him do this one? I just want to stay here all day."

(You still think it's just habit from when you and Chara shared everything, but they really hate it when anyone, even you, calls him 'Asri'. Then again, they get equally mad when someone else calls you 'Free', so.)

Chara's arms remain tense. "Frisk, if by 'there' you mean what I fear you mean, I echo your feelings. But is that the only reason?" Their arms carefully push you up so they can look you in the eye. "If you weren't about to take a flight to a place you never want to go, and if I weren't here hugging you, would you still not want to get out of bed?"

You know what they're asking. "I don't think so. Only a little, if I am."

Chara nods, and their weight finally slips off of you. "Fine, but I'm telling Asri to keep an eye on you while you're over there. Do not fail to tell him if you keep feeling that way. Understood? I'm not going to take 'I didn't want to bother you' as an excuse. Just because you're twelve now doesn't make this job any less hard on you, and you are going to take care of yourself, or I swear I'll find a way to put my soul back alongside yours."

You're pretty sure they can't do that. Still, it's a scary thought. It wouldn't be the first time Chara gave up their life for someone. You reach for their hand carefully, and let your fingers slip under the cuff of their left sleeve. "Mom's gonna be with me. Will you be okay?"

Chara touches the old burn scar at the heel of your palm gently. "If it gets really bad, I _think_ I can work up the courage to talk to Undyne about it. She'll probably have me undergo one of her grueling cooking lessons instead, but it will be something."

You feel yourself grinning before you can even think to stop. "Don't burn anything down this time."

Chara snorts. "As I recall, you started that tradition yourself." They hug you tightly and kiss your cheek. "Now get going. And call me when you land. Also when the first day's over. Or during, if they'll let you text in the meeting."

You _really_ miss Chara being there in your mind to mock the less kind officials and distract you with puns, and you know they miss having the opportunity to do it. Now that they have their body back, they'll probably never be able to sit in committee, but that's why you're the ambassador and they're your best friend.

Chara nudges you gently, and you slide lightly out of bed. "I'm serious, Free, get ready. You're going to feel awful if you don't push through the cobwebs."

They're right, and you know it, and pretty soon you're washed up and dressed. Chara meets you at the door to the room, and they slip behind you and tuck one of their blankets into your backpack. "If you get antsy on the flight, cover under this," they say quietly. "You shouldn't wear it on the way. You know it's not good to wear it all day, and if you want it at all, you'll want it for work."

You nod to that. "It's in my suitcase anyway," you assure them. "I promise I won't wear it too much."

Their hands slip up, as deft as ever, and you feel something cool and soft pressing down over your hair. You hold perfectly still until they give your shoulder an awkward pat, and only then do you slip out your old compact.

"It would seem I am far less skilled at weaving than at knitting," Chara says idly as you stare in wonder at the soft silky scarf they've tied over your head. You hardly care; you're already playing gently with the trailing ends and smiling at the feeling under your fingers. It's a little rougher than a professional, sure, but it's not different enough to bother you.

"All kids wear stripes," is what you finally say, playing gently with the deep purple stripes over the trailing end. At the very tip is the Delta Rune, done up in silver and with a red heart set instead of the circle that's usually at the middle. "I love it, Chara..."

You don't even need to turn around to see it to know that Chara's blushing, but you tip your compact so you can anyway. "I thought you might like something more... you," they say quickly. "I know your culture still means a lot to you, even so."

You turn around and open your arms, and they lean into you. You hug them tightly and nod. "I love you, Chara," you whisper. "You are good to me, and I am happier because I know you. And the things you make are wonderful, because you really can make things."

They draw back, and their cheeks are almost glowing. You smile, and wink. "And you can absolutely look forward to apology chocolate when I get back."

Chara snorts. "You have nothing to apologize for. But that's the best kind of apology chocolate anyway, so I shall accept regardless." They shake their head. "And... thank you."

You really want to just sit here and hold them, but they cock an eyebrow at you and glance at the door, so you let go of Chara and slip out into the hall, more than ready to face any jerk politician who thinks they can ignore you just because you're only twelve.

It's too bad you've got an hours-long flight before you're even in the same country as them.

 


	2. Verse 1 - Shelta ~ Fruits of Our Hands' Labors

When you open your eyes, there's a familiar blaze of gold beside and above your bed. The sight brings a smile to your face, but you also have to sigh a little. You sit up and reach out to lay your hand on one of the huge, fur-covered hands that lie in your foster father's lap. You can feel the rumble of his deep, tired breathing, and the hot wind of it plays lightly with your hair.

He's still for a long while, other than that. He sleeps so heavily. It's so different when you compare it to Frisk, who often can't get to sleep at all if something's bothering their senses, or Chara, who you've seen snap awake in an instant just from you walking across the carpet in socks. Still, after a bit his eyes flutter, and then open, and he smiles brightly.

You take your hands away from his, and move your own briskly. ~I said I was feeling better. You didn't need to spend all night sleeping there.~

His hands move in response. ~And how are you this morning?~

You shake your head a little. ~Healthy. And not stiff, like you're going to be. A stomach bug is no reason to spend all night sleeping in a chair. What if you caught it from me?~

His laugh sends your hair gusting every which way. ~I doubt that. I will be fine, Shelta. I know it is silly of me, but I am... inclined to be careful with sick children.~

His hands are always slow when he signs, with careful, deliberate movements. From someone else, you might see it as condescension or being unfamiliar with sign, but you know neither is true. He is simply devoted to avoiding misunderstanding.

However, now his hands are moving more slowly than ever. You sit up a little more and sign. ~I didn't realize something had happened. I just don't want you hurting yourself over something you don't need to hurt yourself over.~ You open your arms to him.

Asgore gently lifts you from the bed and embraces you tightly. You can't talk to each other like this, but it hardly matters. He's a little like Frisk that way; sometimes, Asgore just really needs a hug.

You bury your face in his shoulder at the thought of comparing the huge horned king of monsters to the short sleepy-eyed human child the queen has adopted. You don't want him to think you're smirking about what's happening right now. When he sets you down again, you've gotten your face under control.

Asgore raises his hands again. ~I understand. I know I am being silly, but will you forgive me?~

You nod. ~Of course I do. And don't feel like you have to tell me the story. It hurts to think about, right? So only if you really feel like you want me to know.~

Asgore gives a long sigh that presses your sleep shirt tight against yourself. ~It has to do with Chara,~ he signs, and his hands are slower than ever; his fingers droop unless they're absolutely needed. ~More than that, I don't think I am ready to talk about right now.~

~And that's fine.~ Your hands are firm as you sign.

Asgore nods slowly. ~Do you want anything special for breakfast? I feel like I want to go do something productive.~

Honestly, it's one of those days you mostly feel like cold cereal, but. ~Anything from the garden that you could use? I think I'd like something like that.~

Asgore nods, and rises from his chair. You can easily see the wince as he stretches his back. Stiff, like you thought. He checks his phone and lights up as he strolls out into the hall to talk to whoever it is that's looking for him.

For your own part, your phone was buzzing in your pocket before, and now you tug it out.

**Finally through security. -_- My name is not a request...**

You smile a little at that, although you understand too. Honestly, you'd expect a literal appointed ambassador to get more respect, but. **Gadje being gadje?**

**More like cops being cops. It's not** _**that** _ **bad, but I fly a lot.**

There's not a lot to say, you know even better than Frisk that some people take to authority a little too eagerly.

 **Sorry,** the phone buzzes again a moment later. **I shouldn't complain.**

You can't help but shake your head a little. **You and Dadsgore got me back. You don't have to say sorry for what happened anymore. Besides, it's not me they really wanted to hurt.**

**I still shouldn't remind you!**

**And they shouldn't use their hands if you ask them to use a scanner. Anyway, your flight soon?**

**We don't even get on for another half hour. -_-**

**Endure, Frisk! Think of all the goat hugs awaiting you!** You can't even pretend you aren't grinning by now.

**I should've filled up on Shelta hugs first. And whatever Dad's making you. But Mom's with me.**

They're right about that. You would love to have Frisk over for a nice breakfast and a side of hugs, but... well. Asgore's told you enough about what he did to understand that Toriel probably won't forgive him anytime this century. She's not open or hostile about it, but you can see the resentment she carries; her muscles are never relaxed around your foster father, ever. He knows it, too: she doesn't trust him, and you're honestly surprised she's never tried to claim custody of you, but she never legally objected to Asgore doing so.

It kind of sucks, honestly. Frisk genuinely loves him, and they come over all the time, but there's always that gulf when Toriel is around. You don't understand it, but then again you can't exactly claim to understand what it was like for her.

 **I kinda wish you could too. It's kind of a cereal day for me, but he really wanted to make something himself, so he's cooking something from his garden. He's overdoing it again, but he won't listen to me.** You wish he would, honestly.

**He'll always want to make up for what he did. Besides, you're feeling better, right?**

There is that. **I'm fine. Just a dumb stomach bug, they're always gone in 24.**

Frisk's response is a gif file of a yellow digital clock face that counts up for a few seconds. You're pretty sure it's another one of Chara's endless bag. **He's probably thinking about the past, too.**

**He told me it had something to do with Chara. Bad idea to ask them about it?**

**Bad idea,** Frisk concurs. **Good idea to stop by, though.**

You were thinking about it too. Chara is an odd person, and their body language says so many things at once that you can't get a good read on them most of the time, but Frisk trusts them and loves them, so there. **Or have them come here. Spending a couple days alone has gotta suck.**

 **It does,** Frisk replies, **which is why Undyne's letting them stay with her once she gets home.**

 **Good choice. Why not here with me and Dadsgore though?** You mean both of those things. Undyne is crazy in the best way, and staying with Undyne means staying with Alphys, Marchess of Anime Nights. But Chara loves Asgore deeply; you just have to look at how they sign his name to know that. And neither of you would have a problem with Chara spending a few nights here.

**Trust you lose is the hardest to get back. Please don't ask me to explain that.**

Frisk asked you not to, so you won't. **Besides a long boring flight to the former headquarters of Roma Haters Less-Anonymous-Than-Usual, how's the morning been?**

 **Please don't remind me, Shelta. I really, really don't want to go to this country. -n- It was a nice start though.** You're already regretting trying to make light of the situation, when your phone buzzes with another picture.

You open it, and you have to stare. That's Frisk, fast asleep, and laying on the blankets on top of them... that has to be Chara. Their face is turned a little towards whoever took the photo (Toriel, you guess it would have to be?) and they look so... peaceful.

**Lucky. All I got when I woke up was Dadsgore snoring in his chair. :P He's gonna be stiff all morning, I really wish he wouldn't do stuff like that.**

Frisk's reply is another picture, just themself this time with the plane in the background. The headscarf they're wearing is new, though, and they're beaming brightly. **Also, I got a reward for going to work instead of cuddling all day!**

You grin. **Looks good on you. Trying new fashions?**

You have to set down the phone to get dressed, but when you pick it up, there's two messages waiting. **More like old fashions I never tried before. | I gotta board now, I'll call you when we're settled in.**

You dash off a quick goodbye before heading down. There's already an appetizing smell coming from the kitchen. When you slip inside, Asgore looks at you with a bright grin, but his arms are too full to sign to you.

~Frisk got on their plane,~ you sign. ~Got some pictures when you have your hands free.~

He nods, and resumes his work. Judging from the heavy bowl and whisk, it's pancakes. The whole room smells of citrus, though, and you can see a pile of berries on the counter.

Also, his fur is flecked all over with batter, and his claws are coated in flour, and you force yourself not to roll your eyes. That's going to take a lot of care later. Sometimes you wonder if he does it on purpose, to give you something to do. Sometimes you wonder instead whether he just likes being taken care of.

Or maybe he's just the grand domestic dork Chara has always insisted he is. Either way, you watch patiently as he pours the bowl carefully out onto the hot surface and begins to thinly slice berries into the pools of sizzling batter. By the time the last one is loaded, the bubbling of the batter tells you both they're ready, and Asgore waits only long enough to pinch some small, almost tube-like greens between his fingers and garnish a few with them before he starts flipping each one over in turn. He turns to you after, clapping his hands together as he does. ~Let's save the pictures for the table. Is Frisk doing all right? Did they talk about Chara or Tori?~

You think. ~They said Undyne's going to let Chara stay with her. Toriel is with them, but they didn't say much else about her.~

Asgore nods, trailing streaks of flour and batter through his mane when he strokes it. ~I understand. Frisk seems very... reluctant about this trip, however. Do you know anything you feel comfortable telling me about that?~

You think for a long moment. ~There was a moment in history where that country's government was very, very cruel to our people. Even if it was a long time ago, almost as long as the war you knew, I think Frisk is scared of going somewhere so many Romani died.~

Asgore looks taken aback at that. ~I had no idea. It still astonishes me, what Frisk is willing to do for my people...~

You frown, and you let your signing grow just a little faster and more brisk. ~You're not giving Frisk enough credit, I think. Do you really think they'd think of themself as _not_ part of 'your people'?~

Asgore flinches slightly. ~I... see your point. But even so, I am a monster, as are those who I was once king of. And Frisk, much as I love them, is human. Surely...~

As quickly as your hands sped up, now they're slowing down. But you can't think of another way to make him understand. ~I wasn't born a Rom, you know. When Frisk and I first met, I was already an orphan. I joined the caravan as a Romani couple's foster son. That's why the people you rescued me from could take me away so easily. My Romani parents took me in because I accepted their offer, not because they signed some papers.~

Asgore looks... shocked at what you're telling him. He sniffs the air and busies himself removing the pancakes from the heat; they're almost perfectly browned. Maybe just a tiny bit too much. When he looks again, you swallow and continue. ~I wasn't born one, but I am a Rom, and I'm proud of that. What matters to us is who you are. That's how Roma see the world, and Frisk's even more of one than me no matter what they tell themself. There's no way they don't see themself as part of your people. They're not doing this for 'your' sake, it's for 'ours'.~

Asgore slips past you, but only so he can put the plate on the table. He turns around immediately to look at you, and his hands are almost solemn as he finally replies. ~Do you... want to go back to them?~

That's... a question you still don't have an answer to. It's been more than four years since you were taken away from your "kidnappers", and you haven't seen them since. ~I accepted your offer to take me in, too. You and Frisk came looking for me.~

Besides, if you did go back, you'd have to live in the same caravan as the people who abandoned Frisk to die. Being grateful only goes so far, and certainly not far enough for the forgiveness the caravan would need. Roma have enough enemies without fighting each other, and you going back absolutely would bring a fight with you.

Asgore nods quietly, and deposits a heavy stack of pancakes onto his own plate, and a smaller stack on your own. You have to stifle a grin as you remember how he used to insist on serving himself the same amount as you. But, well, Asgore is enormous. It's not greedy for him to take more.

~At any rate,~ he signs at you as you pick up your fork, ~I am happy to take care of you, and I will do just that as long as you want to stay in my home.~

~Our home,~ you gently correct him, not bothering to put down the fork, and then dig in eagerly. You take a piece without berries first, and it's obvious where that smell came from now; Asgore must have mixed lemon peel into the flour. It's a weird texture, one that would have Frisk pouting as they ate, but worth it to you for the burst of lemon that infuses every bite. The berries are all the nicer for it, of course, nice fresh strawberries and the last of his crop of blackberries. (That's certainly a perk of having magic: being able to keep your crops fresh even months after you picked them.)

You slide your phone across the table to him, and his eyes light up at the sight of the pictures. Actually, he starts to tear up pretty quickly, and... yup, now his mane is streaked with flour under his eyes from dabbing at them. ~It's wonderful to see those two together. Knowing that Chara is opening up to contact again is... very reassuring.~

Asgore sets a new pancake or two before you every time your plate empties, until you push it gently back. You've both agreed that's your signal that you're full and satisfied with the meal. He continues, eyes sparkling a little as he does, but eventually even Asgore gets full. If you squint hard, you can just about see the covering he makes over the plate.

~Well, now.~ Asgore smiles. ~What shall we do today?~

You roll your eyes. ~Well, first you're getting me the brush. Then we can plan, although I think we should include Chara for at least part of it.~

Asgore nods and slips out of his chair. You shake your head a little, and settle in to wait for him.

 


	3. Verse 1 - Asriel ~ A Prince And The Baton He Cannot Pass

Airports are boring. Really, really boring. Since coming to the surface, you've encountered a lot of really boring things that humans came up with, but airports rank a strong second on your list of most boring things, just above dentist's offices and squarely below "spending decades as a soulless flower viewing every possible dialogue tree branch in the Underground".

Actually, nah. You nudge it down into third place. Dentists make you wait for something you really don't want to happen and won't like when it does. Waiting at an airport, though...

"Asriel! Hugs!" The voice is clear and obvious even though they almost never seem to yell, and you turn in time to sweep Frisk into your arms and hold them. "Much better," they mumble into your fur as you lean on the wall.

You can't help it, and you're hugging Frisk back seconds later. "Tough flight?" you ask softly.

Frisk shakes their head a little. "Tough day," they reply. "Wanted to just sleep through it, but Chara wouldn't let me."

They burrow a little more into the crook of your neck, and you let them. You know they're right; they're always exhausted after this kind of meeting, and if they're out of spoons going into it... "I mean, I could've taken over."

Frisk shakes their head. "I would've felt bad. _That_ bad."

You force yourself not to say anything. Chara was genuinely angry with you when they found out you've been trying to make Frisk stop doing those things, but... you really want to. Just like when you caught Chara doing it. They're your best friends, it can't be right to let them do something like that. "Anyway! Everything's all set up here. I'll be right next to you if you need to change over."

They reach up to gently touch your budding horns, and you have to fight not to shiver. They're sensitive still, and Frisk's touch is always so gentle and loving. "They grew a little," they muse. "And I might need to. Are you sure you're ready?"

It's a weird feeling, having your horns budding for a second time. You're still not sure exactly why Frisk brought you two back as you were a couple months before you both died, but Chara gets genuinely angry at you when you try and press Frisk about it. All you really know is that Frisk told you once that they had to focus on one of Chara's memories to shape your new bodies. And you guess that means they picked one a while before the end?

It's not that you're ungrateful; being a flower wasn't _as_ bad after Frisk potted you and started taking care of you in their room, but you were still sick of being one. You're just curious why you lost some ground and ended up with no horns. You were so proud of them coming in, and you still remember Chara's hesitant touches against them, near the end.

Frisk pushes on the end of your muzzle (you're _absolutely certain_ they got that from Chara) and you nod. "I've been practicing," you assure them. "Not with whoever taught me and Chara at first, but there are other monsters who know sign. Like Dad, and Grillby."

Frisk nods, and then tucks themself gently under your muzzle. "Shelta was right," they mumble. "Goathugs were definitely worth the flight."

You groan just a little. You _sort of_ see the resemblance of a boss monster's head, but beyond that you're clearly not a _goat_! But Chara never let up on it, and Frisk doesn't seem to intend to either.

Speaking of people who are definitely not goats, you hear another familiar voice clearing her throat, and you step close so Mom can hug you both. "I am happy to see you again, my dear child," she murmurs. And... you are too, so you're not going to bother bringing up that it's kind of embarrassing getting hugs from your _mom_ in the middle of a public space like the airport pickup lounge.

There's a loud buzz and a mechanical whirr, and Mom slips away from you to go stand by the baggage carousel. Frisk gives your ear a pet, so you go over and stand by her. ~What does yours look like?~ you finger-spell carefully near their face.

Frisk gives a pleased hum. "It's small and purple and it's got the Rune on it. Mom's are bigger."

You watch the baggage coming down for a few minutes, but you don't see _anything_ with the Delta Rune on it. Airports are edging back up towards second place on your list; dentists at least don't make you wait around after they're done messing with your mouth.

Frisk gives a little squeeze around your neck, though, and dentist offices re-clinch their silver medal. You can't help but sigh a little, though. Shouldn't an ambassador who has places to be _very soon_ get to have their luggage fished out and brought separate by the airport staff? (Then again, who are you kidding? Even if that privilege did exist, Frisk would just smile that shy way they have and say, "I don't want any special treatment.")

The conveyor rolls on. (Heck, sometimes it seems like Frisk doesn't think they should get even normal treatment.)

And on. Someone grunts a few feet away as he hefts a bulging huge suitcase off of the belt. His eyes meet yours when you glance over (you guess he didn't really need help, since he's got it on the ground already), and then they flick down to Frisk. "... The hell's all this, then?" he grunts, pointing a finger that makes you think of a water sausage. "Pretty brazen, don't you think?"

Frisk gives you another squeeze, but you already can feel your arms getting tense. "Brazen? They're tired after their flight, so I'm holding them."

He crosses his arms. "I get it. Easy pickings, huh? Look, put the kid down and I won't have to dust your thieving ass."

Frisk turns in your arms, and you kinda wish you could see the look they're giving him. "I'm adopted," they say, firmly. "And you should mind what you accuse a prince of."

His eyes drop to Frisk and look over them appraisingly. "Huh. Now there's irony for you. Some gypsy brat getting themself stolen." He snorts. "Look, kid, I dunno what your parents taught you, but stealing someone isn't adopting."

Frisk squirms in your arms, and you set them down before you start squeezing them by mistake. "I was adopted," they repeat firmly. "Signed, notarized, witnessed. And stop insulting my family and my people."

The man cocks an eyebrow. "It ain't insult to call a gaggle of lawless thieves 'criminal', kid."

Frisk stares coolly back at him. "Ambassador," they state firmly. "Not 'kid'. And I am a _Roma_. Don't use that other word again, please."

The man blinks. "Wait. The one who's been going around tryin' to normalize monsters being around decent folk? Ambassador Frisk is a pint-sized gypsy girl?" He barks out a short laugh. "Since when does an ambassador get to demand what words I get to use?"

Frisk's whole body is tense, and when they speak, it sounds like they're reciting something. "Ambassador or no, I reserve the right to be upset when someone misgenders me and refers to myself and my people by an outdated ethnic slur. Now that you are aware that what you called me is a slur, I ask that you apologize."

They breathe heavily for a little after that, and you put a hand on their back. Chara must have taught them that one. They squeak and make a quick sign for "hot!" at you, so you draw it back. Maybe you were calling on your magic. No, you probably were. Your magic knows exactly how angry you are right now. Princely decorum is the only reason you haven't wrapped this asshole in a column of fire.

He's impassive, still. "I'll use whatever words I please, kid. Especially against people who've robbed my store three times and had kids rescued twice this year from their kidnapping."

"Were they really kidnapped? Or is that just what you guessed?" Frisk's voice is... really quiet. "The police stole someone from my caravan once. He was an orphan, so we asked if he wanted to be a Roma too. The police didn't care. They just saw a boy who didn't look like a Roma." They glance away. "That happens a lot. All over the place."

Your soul goes cold. So do your hands. Is _that_ what happened? Frisk never told you about anything like that.

The man snorts again. "Likely story. Boo hoo, the police realized a white kid clearly wasn't actually a gypsy and took him home, let's make up a story about how he really was our kid and the mean old policeman stole him!" He spits just in front of Frisk's boots. "You thieves get exactly what you deserve, don't expect me to go all soft-heart liberal on you."

Frisk visibly sighs, and turns around. They look so... defeated. Mom appears suddenly, fur on end, and she scoops them up and glares daggers at the man. "I will thank you to cease insulting and hurling slurs at my child," she says. "And you can start by apologizing for assuming their gender. Frisk is not a girl, or a boy for that matter."

The man groans loudly. "Now you're throwing that 'them' crap on top of this? Y'know what, forget it, I don't have time to deal with this lackadaisy nonsense. I'll be the bigger man and just walk away from all this." He hefts his heavy suitcase, and this time you have zero inclination to help. "Freak like that deserves to get swiped by 'em anyway. Serves the damn child thieves right too."

Actually, screw princely decorum, this guy needs punching. Possibly with fire. Nah, definitely with fire. And if anyone genuinely does object, it's not like Frisk can get in trouble for something you did. Not like anyone is actually going to defend him after harassing Frisk like that.

Before you even really get to wind up, though, a voice freezes the man in his tracks. And it freezes you, too, because nobody else on the planet has a voice that loud without screaming at the top of their lungs.

"EXCUSE ME, SIR! I COULDN'T HELP BUT NOTICE YOU FORGOT TO APOLOGIZE!"

The man stares at the person next to him. A tall, imposing skeleton had placed a bright orange glove on his shoulder and was now staring intently at him. "The hell are you supposed to be, now?"

The skeleton crosses his arms and draws to his full height. (Holy crap, how is he _still_ taller than you? Also how did you not notice him when he's that freaking tall?) "I? I AM THE GREAT PAPYRUS, AND I AM SHOCKED YOU HAVE NOT HEARD OF MY GREATNESS! HOWEVER, THAT IS NOT IMPORTANT RIGHT NOW! WHAT IS IMPORTANT IS THAT YOU HAVE BEEN ACTING VERY RUDELY TO MY VERY NICE HUMAN FRIEND, AND I THINK YOU OWE THEM AN APOLOGY!"

The human stares for a long moment. "And if I don't want to?"

Papyrus tilts his skull. "I CAN'T UNDERSTAND WHY! NOW THAT YOU KNOW WHAT YOU CALLED FRISK IS UNKIND, SURELY YOU WANT TO STOP?"

The human glares up at Papyrus. "Again. If I don't want to?"

Papyrus actually bends his knees until he's on eye level with the human. His voice manages, somehow, to soften. "PLEASE, I KNOW YOU CAN BE BETTER THAN THAT. THERE IS NOTHING GREAT ABOUT TREATING ANOTHER PERSON SO HURTFULLY, ESPECIALLY WHEN THEY HAVE DONE NOTHING TO YOU!"

The human stares back. "What the hell are you talking about?"

Papyrus puts his hands on his hips. "YOU KNOW NOW THAT WHAT YOU FEARED THE PRINCE HAD DONE WAS NOT, IN FACT, TRUE. YOU KNOW NOW THAT WHAT YOU CALLED FRISK IS NOT A NICE THING TO CALL SOMEONE! WHAT REASON COULD THERE BE NOT TO APOLOGIZE? FRISK HARDLY IS RESPONSIBLE FOR WHAT SOMEONE ELSE DID TO YOU, CORRECT?"

The human stares for a long, long moment. "... You people are weird. What kind of world do you think we live in, here?"

Papyrus nods. "A WORLD WHERE THERE ARE A LOT OF PEOPLE WHO SHOULD TRY TO BE BETTER. EVERYONE CAN BE A VERY GREAT PERSON, IF THEY WORK AT IT! AND ALSO HAVE PEOPLE TO HELP THEM OVERCOME THE THINGS THAT MAKE IT HARD FOR THEM TO BE GREAT! AND I AM TRYING TO SHOW YOU THAT YOU HAVE THE OPPORTUNITY TO DO JUST THAT, RIGHT HERE! ALL IT TAKES IS REALIZING THAT YOU HAVE HURT SOMEONE, AND CHANGING TO STOP HURTING THEM!"

The man pushes roughly past Papyrus. "Whatever. Weirdos, the lot of you."

Papyrus sighs a little as he watches the man struggle off with his bag. "VERY WELL! BUT YOU HAVE TO TRY IF YOU WANT TO BECOME A BETTER PERSON! PLEASE, CONSIDER WHAT I HAVE SAID! ALSO, WOULD YOU LIKE SOME HELP WITH THAT BAG? IT LOOKS QUITE HEAVY!"

The man makes a rude gesture, and you idly consider subtly weakening the handle he's clutching to. Frisk distracts you, though, by wiggling out of Mom's arms and darting over to the tall, allegedly cool skeleton. Papyrus scoops them up and... oh my _god_ he just twirled in place with them, he is _such_ a dweeb.

(You are most absolutely _not_ imagining Chara running to meet you and twirling them up into your arms, shut up.)

Frisk is beaming. "You were great." They snuggle in close and get comfortable; you've never really understood how they can, considering Papyrus is literally all bones and angles and the hard smooth shell of his battle body. "What're you doing here, though?"

Mom smiles as she draws a little closer. "I would like to know as well," she says quietly. "Though I hardly object to having you around."

Papyrus nods. "WHY, FULFILLING MY DUTIES AS A VERY FAMOUS ROYAL GUARDSMAN, OF COURSE!" he declares with an enormous grin.

Mom shakes her head. "By which you must mean the king sent you, do you not?"

Frisk squeezes a little more on Papyrus. "Did he?"

Papyrus nods gravely. "HE DID! AFTER ALL, A ROYAL GUARDSMAN SHOULD PROTECT ANYONE IN THE ROYAL FAMILY!"

You can't help but glance to the side, just in time to notice one of Mom's suitcases almost go by and grab it just in time. "I mean... Frisk's already got me, but... thanks?"

Papyrus pats your head with a heavy glove. "THEY DO! AND I AM NOT HERE 'JUST IN CASE', PRINCE! BUT WE DO HAVE DIFFERENT WAYS OF MAKING FRISK HAPPY. AND SHOULD YOU WISH TO REST, THERE I WILL BE!" He beams at you.

Frisk reaches out, and he holds them out so you can take them back. "Silly," they chide you, quietly. "I will never not need goathugs."

(What kind of goat has claws and giant paws at the end of their legs?!)

Papyrus tugs a wheeled suitcase forward. "ALSO! BEFORE I THOUGHT I SHOULD INTERJECT, I FOUND SOMETHING THAT I BELIEVE BELONGS TO YOU!"

Frisk slips down and takes their bag. "Okay. I think I'm ready."

Mom smiles brightly at you. "Are you, my child?"

One perk of being part of a royal family: if you can pass the driving test, they'll look the other way about your reported age. Besides, you're not _really_ fifteen years old, not by a long shot. Even if, as Chara puts it, you didn't really do much growing back then (which you're absolutely certain is meant to be a flower pun, because it's Chara), Papyrus loaned you plenty of his magazines after Frisk potted you, and a few driver's manuals after he caught you taking an interest. It wasn't actually too hard once you got used to having, well, legs and paws again.

But now that Papyrus is here... "Do you want to drive?" you offer, with a glance at him.

Papyrus shakes his head emphatically. "NOT IN THE SLIGHTEST! I HAVE EVERY CONFIDENCE IN YOUR ABILITIES!"

Well, there goes that excuse. Mom gives you a look for a moment before heading for the curb. Papyrus slips up beside you. "YOU DID WELL, PRINCE. YOU CAN DO BETTER, BUT I AM PROUD OF HOW YOU HAVE GROWN SO FAR!"

You're a bit too thrown off by the fact that only you heard that (seriously, when the hell did _Papyrus_ learn how to _whisper_?!) to do much until Frisk squeezes your hand tightly. "Asriel," they say seriously. "I know. But we both need to be here."

You know they're right. But honestly, it's hard to care. You've been out here for two days now smoothing things out and getting everything ready. And now you've got to spend a few more days standing quiet and pleasant while people treat Frisk like garbage, instead of being with Chara.

Frisk leans back against you, and they play with your claws. They always seem so intent when they're doing something like this, but you don't think you'll ever understand why it calms them down so much. But they won't be able to do this in meetings, it's always been called a "breach of decorum" or "inappropriate contact" when you try. "Hey," you whisper, and they press up until their headscarf tickles your lips. "Did you bring, um..."

They nod slowly. "If I need it, I'll excuse myself." That's a promise, too; you know that tone. "What about you?"

You should've known they would ask. "I... left it behind. Forgot my toothbrush too, I had to buy one here, but... not so easy to get a replacement of _that_."

"You should have told me." Their tone is so... quiet. "I would have brought it."

There's no getting around it. "I didn't want you to. I don't want it."

Frisk's voice is mild. "Can I ask you why?"

You hold them just a little closer. "I don't feel right on it. I don't think I want to keep taking those. And I definitely need to be sharp right now."

Frisk nods slowly. "I wouldn't have let Mom find out, you know."

They're _really_ good at that. "Thanks. But that's just one reason."

They nod again. "Will you talk about it with me and Dad after?"

"I..." You definitely prefer talking with Dad about stuff like this. But it should be your call, right? You feel Frisk squeeze your hand, and you sigh. "It's my choice, Frisk. If you two can both accept that, then I guess."

"It's your call." Frisk looks up at you. Their eyes are soft and brown, and you remember for a moment the first time you really got a good look at the brilliant red of Chara's. How did you ever manage to trick yourself into thinking they could ever be them? "Asriel. If you need to, go ahead and excuse yourself to talk with Chara. I miss them too."

Honestly... you might just take them up on that. "But you'll need me, right?"

Frisk nods. "I will, but I can hold out if you need them."

You glance back, up at the departure board. There's a plane departing in about seventy minutes; you could probably rush-buy a ticket and get through security in time. Honestly, for a moment it almost seems worth it.

(No it isn't. You know it's not. Not the scorn and anger Chara would turn on you the moment you walked in, and not the knowledge that you'd be leaving Frisk in the lurch even if Papyrus is here now. You love Chara, and you can barely stand being in a different country entirely from them now that you're both yourselves again, but nobody would be happy with you flying home.)

Frisk tugs on your sleeve, and you let them clamber up and settle in the crook of one arm. They're somehow lighter than back then; you've grown, of course, and as a boss monster you've got a _lot_ of growing coming up, but they're three years older now too. You almost worry sometimes. "They're waiting on us," they murmur into your ear, and when you look down they kiss the top of your muzzle, right at the end.

One of these days you have got to figure out how these two do that. Chara can talk about muses and pages and lords all they want, clearly both of the humans in your life are thieves of heart. (Oh crap, it's spreading.)

You take hold of Frisk's suitcase in your free hand and let them nestle close as you walk. They're going to need all the comfort they can get, soon.

 


	4. Verse 1- Chara ~ The Princet Left Momentarily Alone

From almost literally the moment Frisk closes the front door behind them, you are once again in bed. Not your own, of course, but in Frisk's, curled up into a tight ball under their blankets. The blankets are still warm from their presence, and remain so for a long while.

You miss them already. Sometimes you really do want to just crawl back inside their heart, or maybe Asri's, and this time never ever come out. But what you definitely do not want is to think that way, and you make a mental note to talk with Alphys about it later. She knows the handholds out of the abyss a lot better than you do.

More than anything, you hate being alone in this house when it is supposed to be filled with sound and warmth. Maybe that is why you cling to the last shreds of Frisk's body heat, as you clung to them last night. You wish yet again that Toriel would let you keep a dog, but she has a very good point against that: she and Frisk are both often taken up with tasks that need their attention and leave no opportunity to care for an animal. Left unsaid is the third argument to that equation: your own frequent failures to care for yourself, let alone be responsible for another living creature.

(Frisk usually takes the opportunity to give you their best narrow-eyed grin and point out, "But we already have a cat, Chara!")

You manage to sate yourself by texting aggressively at Asri for a while, but then Frisk texts to announce their arrival, and you withdraw. They deserve some time alone, genuinely alone rather than you just being very quiet while Frisk talks to a grumpy flower. The least solid tie in the relationship you three share is definitely between those two, and much as you love Free and Asri both (and miraculously have that love returned as well), you feel as if they deserve to love each other just as much.

Or maybe you just want Asri to have as many chances as he can to make up for how thoroughly he botched his first proper meeting with them. You can still remember the genuine fury in their voice, how they shook at what he had said about you. Frisk almost never yells. They shout from time to time, in joy or fright, but you had almost never heard them actually yell _at_ someone. And, well. It was not the most kind of things to say about someone while standing over their bones. Even after you took the reins so you could explain why he _had_ said it (and give him just a _little_ well-earned chastisement), you could feel Frisk retain some tension towards him.

Not that Frisk's worries are without reason. Asri maybe isn't the best person either. You hardly need him to be, mind, but Frisk has seen how the two of you were at your worst and it's obvious they fear your relationship falling back into that place, or finding themself in that sort of situation in your place. And Asri's unabashed jealousy towards their relationship with you hardly helps. Everything Flowey did was an attempt to keep you to himself, as was Asri going as far as he did, and part of him really does not like that you carved out a place in your desiccated heart for Frisk right beside his.

In the end, Frisk is right. The way you and Asri were back then was _not right_ and it would be a horrible mistake to go back to a time when you could convince him to help you poison yourself. Sometimes, however, you wonder if he does want those days back.

You hear a soft sound before the source of the sound speaks, and you tense. Before you can plan out a reaction, the quiet voice gets a chance to speak, and it puts you mostly at ease. "it's me, kiddo. gonna bother you if i grab a seat on the bed here?"

"Not in particular," you murmur. "I could use the company. But you probably know that."

The bed shifts under his weight in a way you can feel easily. "i had my suspicions, yeah. i mean, i don't like both frisk and tori being gone either." He pauses. "i mean... i can relate, you know? then again, that probably makes me not very good company."

"Don't say that." Your words are almost automatic. "I'm very glad you came by. This whole morning has been... very lonely."

"hence the fact i find you in frisk's room?" There's the barest hint of teasing in his voice. "tori, uh, might have taken a picture or three." Of course she did. You find yourself more surprised that you never woke up while she was. You heard his slippers on the carpet just now even before he spoke, and if anything you are even more aware when you sleep. "you looked... really content. i'm glad."

You nod, even if you haven't come out from the blankets yet. "I'm glad as well. Frisk loves contact, everyone knows that, but for a while now I have been unable to give them that." When Frisk and the others restored you to actual, genuine life, the sensations of having a real physical body again were overwhelming. Worse, when you tried to hug Frisk after, a flood of _other_ remembered sensations left you shaking and struggling to escape. Asri holding you in hopes of calming you down only made things worse; it was only when Frisk sharply _ordered_ him to let go of you and held out their hand that you were able to force yourself to be calm. Even then you could barely stand touching your fingertips to theirs.

The weight beside you shifts and makes the bed creak in an oddly pleasant way. "if anyone understands why, it'd be frisk. you know they don't think less of you for it."

They do not, but. "I love them, or so I claim. I should be able to..."

The weight shifts again and cuts your words short. "and frisk loves you. more than enough to wait until you feel comfortable. there's no 'i claim' in how you feel about frisk, chara. take it from someone who's known you both then and now."

He's right, no matter how loudly the scarred parts of you scream that he's wrong, that you are not and have never been capable of love. "Thanks," you murmur after a moment. "I wish I could remember, though."

You can hear a sigh. "i kinda do too. it wasn't anything fancy, but it was kinda nice. still, the important part was us being friends, and, well, we have that back now, right? and really... it's not that different. sure, we're on the surface now, and he isn't around, but."

"... but spending time together here gets us no closer to him," you point out. "If I could remember more from back then, I could help."

"it would," he agrees. "but if you can't, then that's just how it is. i don't spend time around you just because i'm hoping you remember more than his name."

You think back for a long moment to the tall figure you and Frisk had met, the night before they brought you back. Without his guidance, you probably wouldn't even be here right now - Alphys and Frisk made key changes to the process based on what he told you. He deserves better.

"i'm not saying to give up on him," he adds, and you blink. "i just don't want you going to pieces. i can promise you, it's not any fun for you or helpful for anyone."

That, you can accept. "Have you been by Alphys' lately?"

He shifts and makes the bed creak again. "couple days ago. not a lot of change, but you know you're welcome to drop by anytime. actually, undyne's taking you for the weekend anyway, right?"

"She is still out of town until this afternoon," you remind him. "But yes. Then again, if I went today, it would save her a trip here."

He chuckles. "speaking of trips to places, i actually also came by to ask if you wanted to hit up grillby's. got that shortcut between his place up here and the old one underground fixed up, and, well."

You'd heard that some monsters actually do still maintain their homes under Mt. Ebott, though few stay there all the time. (Mostly, Snowdin residents, but there are a few scattered folks like Onionsan who stuck around Waterfall too.) And honestly, Grillby is pleasant to be around. Even for monsters, he is a particularly warm presence.

Something occurs to you, and the shape of a plan for the day pieces itself together in your head. Another something occurs to you; you can't help yourself, and smirk despite the fact that he can't see it. "I know that has never stopped you, but right now I haven't the _stomach_ for something as hearty at that. Maybe lunch."

He laughs, and gives a gentle tug at the blankets. You obligingly roll them down and look up. Sans is... more or less the same as he always is. He's taken to wearing decal tees lately - this one is decorated with stars making the rough shape of Einstein's face - but his old blue hoodie is likely to be a permanent fixture until the day he turns to dust. His grin is a fixture as well, but in a literal sense. Those close to the skeleton know how to read his true moods, and you have instinctively known them as far back as when you watched him and Frisk meet properly. If you ever suspected his claims that you two were once friends, that would be telling proof.

You don't suspect them, however. He shares your love for shitty puns even more strongly than Toriel does, and everything about him makes you feel at ease. Considering the unbelievable power at his disposal, you consider that deeply impressive on his part.

"lunch sounds good to me," Sans says. "but i get the feeling you've got more of a plan?"

Well, he's right. "Well, I was remembering that Grillby is nonverbal," you explain. "So he might be a decent monster for a certain old friend of Frisk's to meet. But seeing as said friend is staying with my father, I imagine he's half-buried in Asgore's latest culinary aspirations."

"so that's what you're thinking. sounds good to me." Sans pauses. "i gotta ask, though... i know he's close to frisk, but shelta's still a human. you... okay with that?"

That's another reason you like Sans. "I've seen a fair bit of Shelta, through Frisk," you respond. "I think him someone I can trust and feel comfortable around."

Sans nods. "so, want me to drop you by the king's place, and grab you guys when i hit grillby's for lunch?"

You sit up, slowly, and glance down at yourself. You are still clad in light, loose pajamas in your traditional green and yellow. "Well. I should probably dress myself first."

"which is fine. i should let the king know i'm dropping you off anyway." Sans winks his left eye at you and then steps through the door and winks out of visibility. You're not sure exactly where in the house he went, but you doubt he actually left.

These days, your wardrobe is a bizarre collision of three sources. You still have your old clothes from before your death, because Asgore Dreemurr is seriously the most sentimental dork in all of spacetime and preservation magic happens to be a thing that exists (and that you are working slowly to reclaim). Then there is the small but growing section devoted to your (and occasionally Toriel's) knitwork; you have been surprisingly productive in the months since your revival, and at the urging of quite a few more voices than just Frisk's you make things for yourself as well. You are privately glad they talked you into doing so; there is something deeply _right_ about the feeling of wearing clothing you made yourself.

The third pillar of your wardrobe consists of _exceptionally cute_ things Frisk has bought for you. Some were bought while your soul still shared a space right beside theirs, stockpiled in anticipation of your restoration as much as a physical promise to keep on seeking it. The majority were bought after that day, and a fair few are from when Frisk travels in their capacity as ambassador. Quite a fair few more are simply Frisk thinking of you while out shopping, or even while just passing by a store and glancing in. After years of having you in their head, they've yet to pick something that doesn't appeal to you on at least some level.

Eventually, you toss on a white print tee, modified to lengthen the left sleeve until it falls almost past your fingers, with "RAMONNE" in huge black print across the front and "Johnny" in a smaller curving line underneath. The risk that Alphys might try yet again to coax you into karaoke is well worth the reference; Frisk bought you this the day after the group finished Beck. To go with it, a well-worn pair of brown jeans, because you've found yourself compromising a lot lately between the clothes your adoptive family gave you and the clothes you've gained since the surface opened up to everyone.

Then you part the rows of hangers. In the back of the closet, perfectly preserved still, is a set of old formal garments: a deep violet sleeveless robe emblazoned with the Delta Rune and flowing pale yellow inner garment. A deep green sash hangs around the neck. You find yourself just staring pensively at it, sometimes, and you end up dong that now until a quiet knock on the door draws an instinctive "Dishes!" out of you.

Sans snorts, and slips in through the door. "ready to go?"

You consider for a moment. Thinking of Beck and Sans so close together makes something flicker in the frayed tangle that is your memories. "Sans? Did I really let you hear me sing?"

Sans' eyes light up with a rare amber twinkle that makes your memories stir fitfully. You know you'd never seen his eyes do that while you and Frisk traveled the Underground - they're always either a gentle white or, in a certain dream, singular and blazing with cyan and yellow - and yet the deja vu is remarkable. "a special few times. usually from you letting me be around while you did it for asriel." He chuckles. "then again, it would've been hard to get a private performance back then anyway."

You snort. "It isn't all that more likely now, you realize."

Sans' eyes keep up that amber twinkle. You're certain you know it, not from him but from someone else, and the knowledge rankles at you. "hey, you know me. i take what i can get, and don't sweat it over the stuff i can't."

Another snort. "Sans, you are a skeleton. You should not be able to sweat anyway." He can, though, which frankly is odd, but then again "monsters are weird" has become sort of a catchphrase for the three of you. "That said, if you happen to be around when I am singing for Asri, or for Free, I doubt I would object."

And in truth, you're fairly sure you would barely care if he were to listen in. Song is something precious to you, private and almost intimate. That has never changed, and yet you sing for Frisk. You are changing, you know that.

Sans holds out his hand in offer. "ready when you are, kiddo."

You consider the hand. It's an offer and nothing more; Sans would neither object nor be disappointed if you were to, say, take hold of his shoulder. Lazy bag of bones or not (and you know that's far from the truth), he knows and respects everyone's boundaries. But you are changing, if only for those you wish to change for. Or maybe you always have been.

You reach out and thread your fingers between the pleasant chill of his phalanges, and his eyes almost shine amber. He steps through the door, and you follow; in an instant, the two of you are gone.

 


	5. Verse 2 - Frisk ~ An Ambassador Keeps Their Footing

By the time a recess is called for lunch (you still don't understand what "luncheon" is supposed to mean that "late lunch" doesn't and will never call a meal that), you've had to grab Asriel's hand under the table four times, been insulted for your age five more (never in precise words, but you _know_ ), and had to explain to the chair that _that_ word is actually a slur. When you made a formal request that it not be used, then you had to quietly try and endure the man who right away tried to angrily demand that "free speech not be restricted in an open forum of discussion". And the two others who just as angrily tried to shout him down and have the chair dismiss him from the council for "egregiously and defiantly acting the part of a bigot". You've also lost track of how many times people have called you "she", but you're pretty sure the shouty duo are up to three each.

All in all, it's about half as bad as usual. You've also managed to get permission to keep wearing your headscarf and to at least mention all the concerns that this council was called to talk about. You have a feeling that the chair actually knows a little about the Roma and has at least some idea of what happened here, and that he's trying to keep pressure off you. (He did agree that the only proper way to refer to you is as Romani, and if anyone kept calling you the other word there would be consequences.) Still, there's only so much he's allowed to do, and he has to want to do it. (He's up to two, himself.)

Your food always takes a little longer because of your needs, so you take the chance to slip up beside the chair. When he notices you, you take a deep breath. "Would it be appropriate for me to take some time to speak with my sibling?" you ask, reciting the words Chara taught you. "It would help me to calm down from the stresses I have handled so far."

Sibling. You feel like a traitor even saying that word. "Sibling" could never, ever capture how you feel about Chara, but... there really isn't a good word for it. "Partner" is probably the closest you could get, and even someone like you knows that adults would react very worriedly to a child talking about their "partner".

The chair looks you over for a long, long moment. "You keep it together well," he says, and he almost sounds like he means you did something admirable. "If you need to calm down, by all means. We are in recess, after all. Just don't take so long that you lose the opportunity to eat."

You thank him as politely as Chara has taught you how to, and slip out into the hall. Your fingers dance across the keys even as you look for a quiet corner; you don't need speed dial to have the numbers for the people closest to you memorized. Even if it's the most recent number you've had to remember, you'd never forget Chara's.

Your finger hovers for a long moment before pushing the video call button. You aren't disturbing them. If Chara can't do it for some reason, they'll reject and make a voice call right away. But the screen springs almost immediately to life, and Chara's face peers into it. "Oh!" Their confused expression bursts into a broad, toothy grin. "And here I was beginning to think you could do without your darling partner for once."

They're only teasing, and you know it. You start to say something, but then you notice the area behind them. Everyone you know decorates the places they live very differently, and you know that wallpaper very well. "Isn't that Dad's house?"

Chara nods. "She's still taking me," they say, and you feel a thrill at their answer to a question you never needed to ask. "But Undyne won't be home from that conference until a little while before dinner, so I thought I should spend some time with my father and your adorable little fellow Roma."

You really can't help but giggle at that one, and you lean a little closer to the phone. Chara knows what you want, and they tilt their phone around so you can see that they're curled up on the arm of Asgore's massive couch. You see Shelta, who waves, but he quickly turns away.

That bothers you a little. "Chara? Do you mind Shelta being part of the call?"

Chara glances over their shoulder and looks at Shelta for a moment. "Mostly, no. But..." Their hands flick with that sharp intent they've always had. ~Asgore found a certain bottle in Asri's room, and he has been nervous all morning. Do you have yours?~

You nod quickly, and nestle the phone in your lap so you can sign back. ~I don't think I need it, but I do.~

Chara leans in close, and you do the same so they can stare at your face. There's no point in trying to avoid that gaze. Besides, it lets you judge how deep the shadows under those piercing red eyes are getting (too deep, you think).

"Talk to me about today?" they finally offer. "And Shelta too, if you are comfortable."

You nod, and they wave Shelta over, and even if your hands shake a little you carefully sign out pretty much everything that's happened so far. Chara asks a question or two sometimes, but they don't say anything else, and Shelta is still the whole time.

Chara's hands are as quick as ever, but their eyes never leave yours. ~It seems as if you have made a strong start. Still, you know what comes next. I hardly need to tell you the nuances of what you will be doing the next several days. After all, you are the ambassador here, not me.~

You do your best impression of Chara's glare. ~An ambassador who learned from you.~

Chara smirks. ~I taught you the basics of how to speak in that venue. Beyond that I served mostly as an endless source of snarky commentary and shitty puns. I was your Tom Servo, to use an overwrought metaphor.~ They let out a long, audible sigh.

Shelta leans in. ~You look worried, Frisk.~

Both him and Chara seem to think that, but you don't think you are. ~I don't feel worried,~ you decide to sign back.

Shelta frowns a little. ~Are you sure? Anyone from our caravan would be worried just from being there. Even if you like finding nice gadje to talk to, I think the same goes for you.~

Chara moves the phone so you can see both of them, and turns enough to sign to both you and Shelta. ~I avoided pressing the issue this morning, but... when you two say 'there', do you mean what I fear you do?~

Shelta stares firmly at Chara. ~Where else in that country would an assembly be held?~

Chara glances at you expectantly. You force your hands to move. ~This is where the man who hunted my and Shelta's and Kythra's people lived, once.~

~And died,~ Shelta adds quickly. ~Think of it like... like cultural trauma. People avoid the places where terrible things happened to them, right? So...~

Chara holds up a hand. ~Shelta, you do not have to justify yourself to me. I would never question why you or Frisk would be reluctant to go to that city.~ They turn to you a little more. ~I hope, at least, their trappings are not present? If nothing else, it would hurt our cause if Asri had to punch someone in the face.~

You nod. Chara isn't always very good at making jokes, but you can always tell when they're trying. ~That's illegal here. I think people here get scared by things that even look like them.~

Chara nods to that. ~I wish I could still be there with you. I very much dislike the idea of leaving you alone to those carrion crows.~

That one gets you smiling. ~Don't be rude to birds, Chara. Even if they're your natural prey.~

Chara rolls their eyes at you and even makes a loud and very fake _mrowl_. ~I suppose that is fair. But my objection stands.~

You're still smiling. ~I'll be fine. I can call you. And now you can't make me laugh in council.~

Shelta has a huge grin on his face. Chara turns and signs something you can't catch, though, and he turns around. Chara sighs. "Frisk, listen. I think you should take it."

So that's why they had Shelta turn. You're filled with gratitude right away. "It's not as bad."

Chara shakes their head at you. "Not yet. But something is unsettling you. I don't know what it is, but I have my suspicions. If it comes on you suddenly, you may not have a chance to slip away from the session." They pause. "You yourself told me you were nonverbal for almost fifteen minutes."

It's true. Luckily, nobody put up a fuss, and Asriel stepped up right away into his interpreter duties. "That's just because they were so loud."

Chara nods. "I could very well be worried over nothing. This is only my personal advice, and you are always free to ignore it. Only you know your own mind."

"You used to," you point out.

Chara smiles. "Well, you are my partner," they whisper, and for a few seconds you feel their teeth against your jaw again. "And that means I hold no power over you. You know that."

It's true, and you know it. That's always been their ideal for your relationship, and there's never been a need to wonder why, because... you've _seen_ why. After a while, they started to think you had the right to look at any memory you helped them get back.

Now you've got Asriel on the brain, though, so you murmur, "He told me he doesn't feel right. He promised to talk with me and Dad."

Chara nods gravely. "He very well could be telling the truth. This is difficult enough just for humans without throwing in a completely different neurochemistry. But you both need to impress on him how important it is that he be honest." They lean a little closer. "That is important for you as well. I ask only that, whatever you decide."

There's nothing unfair about that. You nod, and... for a little while, you're both quiet. Finally, you whisper, "I'll take it today. Just today, if I don't think I needed it."

Chara's face softens. "As long as you are not only doing it for my sake." They motion gently to Shelta, and he leans back in. ~They likely won't wait on you to finish. You should have lunch while you still can.~

Shelta nods. ~No skipping meals, all right? We don't have to do that anymore.~

What made Shelta think of _that_? You quickly sign to reassure him. ~I wasn't even thinking of skipping lunch. I just...~

Chara gives a thin smile. ~I know. But with that accomplished, you should fill your belly. Even my dulcet tones are not as valuable to you as your mother's cooking.~

"You are too." The words leave your mouth almost without thinking, and on the other end Chara gives a surprised laugh. ~But I do need to hurry.~

Shelta smiles. ~Okay. We're going to lunch soon too. Chara wants me to come meet a new monster with them and Dadsgore. They said he talks in sign too!~ (Shelta has his own sign for Asgore's name. He insists that the spoken version is "Dadsgore".)

Shelta already knows Mom and Dad and Gerson and he kinda knows Sans, so unless Chara found another grey door they must mean Grillby. ~His food's really good! Don't let me make you wait.~

Shelta rolls his eyes and signs a quick goodbye. Chara leans in, and their eyes sparkle at you. "I love you," they whisper, and sign it as they do.

Your own smile is probably blinding. "I love you too," you whisper back, and sign it with just as much honesty.

The call cuts off - you almost never have the heart to hang up if it's Chara on the line - and you scamper back to your table. Chara wasn't being silly, Mom usually helps out in the kitchen since she knows what upsets your senses. Your meal's already on the table when you get back, but you know you need to keep your word to Chara before you dig in, or you'll lose your nerve.

You don't even take the bottle from your pocket, you've gotten good at getting the cap on and off one-handed, but you stare for a moment at the little white thing in your olive palm. It's stupid, and you know that, but when you take it, it feels like... not a loss, but like a confession. You're admitting that they're right, that a weird semi-dumb autistic child like you can't really be an ambassador.

You've only felt that more strongly since Chara stopped living in your heart.

You trust Chara and Shelta, though, and you don't always trust yourself when you say you're okay. So you fill your mouth with juice and toss the pill in and swallow before it can touch your tongue.

Someone sits beside you just as you stop panting, and you look up guiltily. It's a child Chara's age, and they look worried. "Hey." Their voice is quiet and just starting to deepen. "Are you all right?"

They must've seen you. "Yes." There's no point in pretending, really. "It just helps my nerves."

The other child frowns. "You're nervous? What about?" They shift a little closer to you. "I mean, I'm a little worried about my dad, but... I mean, it's your parent who's got all the big stuff to handle, right?"

You're used to assumptions like this, honestly. It doesn't bother you much. "I'm not here because of my parents."

They look... thoughtful. "Then why would you..." Their eyes widen. "Oh, hey, wait... you're Ambassador Dreemurr, aren't you? Geez, no wonder you're nervous. I'm just here because my dad's on the council." They sigh. "I couldn't imagine doing his job, or them taking me seriously if I did. And you're younger than me, even! They... must give you a hard time, huh?"

Well, they're right. You take a few bites of your lunch while you think, and they raise an eyebrow. "Am I bugging you?" They sound put out.

"I don't mind you sitting here. And they do." You can hear your voice getting quiet.

They look nervous suddenly. "Um, I don't know sign language," they offer quickly. "Am I making you go quiet? My dad says you go quiet sometimes and one of the monsters has to translate for you."

You shake your head. "I just don't talk much." If they're going to stay at the table, though... "If you want to talk, though, what's your name? And do you use 'he' or something else?"

"I'm Aurik." He blinks. "And yeah, I'm a he. I mean... do I look like I'm trans or something?"

"You never know." You think for a long moment of Ypres wearing the clothes she'd worn when she thought she was a boy. "I don't like assuming."

Aurik shrugs at that, and leans a little closer. "Are you trans?"

His voice is soft so nobody else can hear, but he's so... blunt about it. "Not in the way you mean it. I'm N.B."

"I, um." He leans back. "I've got nothing. What's enby...?"

"My gender." It's a little more complicated than that, but you're not about to give him an entire speech on the binary issue. "I use 'they'," you add, because that does need to be said.

He crosses his arms. "What, like... you're not a he _or_ a she? How does that work?"

Of course. "It's... hard to explain," you start. "But... You're a boy, because you feel like one, and you like things boys like. Right?"

Aurik tilts his head. "I... guess you could put it that way? If I had to explain why I say I'm a he, anyway." He shrugs. "But, I mean, boys, girls, and... that's it, really, right?"

You shake your head, firmly. "No, that's _not_ it. I don't feel like a boy or like a girl. I don't fit into either box. I'm something else."

He scratches his head. "I... I don't think I get it, but..." He lets out a long sigh. "Can I still hang out even if I don't? You seem sort of... upset."

"I don't mind. But I'm not good company." You indicate your plate. "Also, they won't let me finish this."

He nods quickly. "Oh, yikes, yeah, I didn't think of that... well, I mean, you can eat even if I'm talking to you." He lowers his eyebrows, and the skin above his nose dimples. "Who says you're not good company though? I mean, you're still in school, but they still chose you to be ambassador despite how young you are. That's got to count for something, right?"

There's a lot of things you tell yourself, when you doubt that you should be here, doing this. But you get the feeling Aurik wouldn't believe them any more than Chara would. "But I don't talk much."

Aurik gives a huge, exaggerated shrug. "Talk as little as you have to." He pauses, and now he looks worried. "Or is this about the enby thing? I don't think you're weird or anything, or that I don't believe you. I hope I don't seem like I do..."

An honest answer seems better here. "Think about this. What if everywhere you went, people asked, 'You're a boy? What's that like?'"

Aurik's eyebrows go way up. "Well, but that's something everyone knows about, right? More or less? I've never met anyone who wasn't a boy _or_ a girl before."

"Does it matter?" It's not like you blame him for being curious, but _everyone_ is.

He scratches his head. "Yeah... yeah, I guess so. I'm sorry."

You shake your head quickly. "I don't want an apology, I just want to be understood."

Aurik blinks. "You're... not mad?"

"Would you be?" You pick at your lunch a little more.

Aurik nods. "You mean you're tired, not mad. I get it." He shakes his head. "There is something I do want to ask, though, and you can definitely take your time and eat your lunch, but... how did you come to be Ambassador Dreemurr?"

"Just 'Frisk' is fine," you say quietly. "We're not in session."

He nods. "Well... how'd you end up ambassador for the monsters, Frisk?"

Once again you have to stop yourself from saying all the reasons you _shouldn't_ be. You have to take a long breath though. "It's because I know them all. Before the Barrier broke, I fell under the mountain. I went all over the kingdom and made good friends. Even with the monsters who were really angry. Even with monsters who thought humans were bad. Even with the monsters who thought, 'it's okay to hurt humans if it means we'll be free'."

Aurik leans over the table so he can look you in the eye even though you're stuffing your face. "Did they try to hurt you?"

"Even with those monsters." It's almost funny, sometimes, knowing that almost all of your friends have actually tried to kill you at one point. "People do bad things when they're desperate. But they're still good people, and I love all of them."

Aurik sighs. "Were they really that desperate? I mean... yeah, it must've been pretty dismal living down there, but... hurting people just to leave the Underground?"

He's not being a jerk on purpose. You know that. He really just doesn't know.

He doesn't know because he's never thought about it. He's not thinking now.

"It wasn't _just_ to leave." Aurik looks sorry immediately, but you're not stopping. "They were _dying_ , Aurik. All of them."

Aurik stares. "I... I mean... getting old happens..."

It's lame. He knows it, and you know it, but he still said it, and... "Being trapped was _killing_ them. A monster who loses hope _dies_."

Aurik lowers his head. "Don't stop. Make me understand," he whispers to you. "Tell me what I did to make you so angry."

Angry. Is that the word? Chara would have a dozen fancier ones, better suited ones, but they're not here. "It's because you're not thinking." You take a long breath. "Think now. Imagine you have to live in a cave because a race you've never seen slaughtered your people. Because they started a war and made you pay for it. Imagine you've never, ever seen the sky, or the sun, or the moon and the stars. You have to pretend a little cave with jewels in the ceiling can be stars. Imagine that because of them, you can never, ever leave. And imagine that you have to make up hope so you don't lie down and never get back up."

Aurik shivers in his seat. "What do you mean, make up hope?"

"I told you. Depression kills monsters." You take another breath. Your lungs burn; even with all the practice being ambassador gives you, you're just not used to talking so much. "So they made up a story. 'We'll fight the humans,' they said. 'We'll help the king become all-powerful. Then we'll go to the surface and live under the sky.' It was a terrible story. But they needed to hope." You pause to catch your breath. "Or to make sure everyone else could."

Aurik thinks for a long moment, and you gladly keep quiet and take the chance to eat some more. Finally, he sighs. "How on earth did you convince people so desperate?"

"Hope." Another deep breath. There's no other way to say it. "There was a human who lived with Mom and Dad a long time ago. The monsters called that human their hope. Even though they came to the Underground because they wanted to die, they ended up happy living there. And the monsters saw that the human wanted to live, and how much the human and the prince loved each other, and... and they were happy too. I... I wanted to give them hope like that human did."

Aurik's staring at you open-mouthed. "And then humans killed the prince," he supplied.

"You know the story?" You shiver. "But before that, the human died. That's when monsters lost hope. The human who wanted to live died anyway, and then humans killed the prince who loved them."

Aurik lowers his head again. "Well, that's one question answered," he says softly. "No wonder you're the ambassador."

You laugh weakly. It's a habit you got from Chara. "They didn't exactly have much choice. Having a human speak for them is really valuable. So, I was really their only option."

Aurik thumps the table. "Hey, don't say that!" He looks straight into your eyes. "There's plenty of adults who'd jump at the chance. Some who'd think it'd make them look good to speak for the monsters, some who'd hear their story and want to protect them. They'd have no problem finding someone else."

Across the room, Asriel must have heard the thump because now he's striding towards you, and his fur is already standing up. You quickly sign to him. ~Leave him be, Asriel. He doesn't want to hurt me.~

"Listen," Aurik goes on. "Monsters picked you because you know them, and you love them. But it's not just because they like you. And it's not because you were the only choice they had. You reached out to people who were desperate and dying, and you... you made them hope again. You made a connection with them. Frisk, you convinced people who tricked themselves into thinking their lives depended on hurting a child... that they could stop. You took people who wanted to hurt you and made friends with them."

You're feeling a little overwhelmed. He's right, and you probably needed to hear something like this, but it's hard to talk. Maybe he thinks you're not buying it, because he keeps going. "There's no more important skill for an ambassador to have, Frisk. They trust you. If the Barrier hadn't broken, they would be trusting you with their hope right now. That means they'd be trusting you with their lives, right? So..."

He stops and actually jerks back when a smooth black claw taps him on the shoulder. Asriel peers down at him with a soft little frown. "It sounds like you're trying to tell Frisk something nice," he says. "But you really need to be more aware. You're crowding them."

Aurik winces. "I... yeah, probably. Um... would it help if they switch to sign? I'd need you to translate though, if that's okay."

You sign quickly to Asriel, and he nods. "They say that's probably better. And that they're really happy about what you're saying."

Asriel settles on Aurik's other side, and Aurik nods at you. "I mean it, though. You're really amazing, Frisk. And that's why you're the ambassador."

You sign, and Asriel translates. ~Thank you. I think I needed to hear someone I don't know telling me that. It's just... a lot of new ways to see at once.~

Aurik nods quickly. "I can leave you be if you want. I'm sorry for getting so excited, I just... I saw how determined you are, and how much you care about the monsters. After that, I couldn't just let you say something like 'I'm only ambassador because they didn't have any other choice'. It's just not right."

You nod in return. ~I understand. I think I'd like some time to recover, though.~

Aurik gets to his feet and smiles brightly. You think of Rhein for a moment. "Don't even think of apologizing, I understand completely. You're the one who's got to deal with my dad and the other guys. I'd like to see you again sometime though, before the conference is over. If that's okay?"

You smile a little yourself. ~Sure! I just want to rest with Asriel a little while.~

Aurik grins even more. "That's fine, that's fine! I should take care of something before recess ends anyway. I'll see you around, Frisk."

Asriel slips close once Aurik is gone, and he tucks you snug against himself while you eat. He doesn't say anything, and you're thankful for that. He's warm and pleasantly soft (you and Chara can use his belly as a pillow at the same time now) and the soft pressure of his claws against your side is an anchor you really, really need right now.

Lunch is over almost too quick for you to finish. Adults don't really like taking time to enjoy meals, you've seen. When everyone's back in council, though, the first person to be recognized is the loud, angry person from the start of the session. He takes a long breath and gives a coughy sort of throat clear. "Just to ensure the agenda at hand remains fresh in everyone's mind," he says, "I would like to call on our colleague, the ambassador from the monsters, to reiterate the issues that _they_ are bringing before this council."

He stresses _they_ so much he sounds like he's got a huge chunk of food stuck in his throat, but he says it. The other two who shouted him down before both look quickly at you. It's a little funny, actually, they look like the time Chara came to borrow a book and woke you up. You meet each of their looks and smile as best you can. The looks they're both giving you are enough; they didn't even know they were doing it, probably, and now they'll be more careful. That's all you really want.

Aurik's right. Ambassadors are supposed to make connections, and they're supposed to be someone their people can trust. You might not have Sabail's skill at debating - and you really wish you do, sometimes, or that he could teach you - but people trust and like you.

For a moment, you catch Aurik peeking in the door; he glances at the loud man, winks at you, and then grins. You rise, and address the council, as asked. "The council recognizes Ambassador Frisk Dreemurr, of the Kingdom of Monsters," the chair intones, and you smile firmly. One more thing: you have the determination to make sure you get done everything your people trust you to do.


	6. Verse 2 - Shelta ~ The Unfallen Child Journies

Chara turns to you and nods after Frisk hangs up. ~They were being serious. Usually their treatment is far worse.~

~Is... everything okay?~ you ask. You trust that they're being truthful, but Frisk not wanting you to know something is a little worrying.

Chara nods. ~What we discussed in private is not anything that is a danger to Frisk. They simply do not feel comfortable discussing it. I know it is silly, but I think they feel some measure of shame about the subject.~ They pause. ~And we also were discussing something that Asri absolutely wants kept a secret among the three of us, plus my father.~

Frisk thinking they should be ashamed of something, that you're used to. Either way there's no point asking Chara; Frisk is the only one who gets to say yes or no. Besides, right now Chara seems relaxed. Whatever Frisk told them about, they're not worried about it.

So, you change the subject. A little. ~Were you serious about Toriel cooking?~

Chara blinks in confusion, and then gives you a thin smile. ~Most certainly. You could hardly expect most catering services that the councils employ to be aware of Frisk's sensitivities. It is not as simple as saying that they adhere to kosher or halal or similar. So she takes some degree of a role fairly often.~ Their brow squeezes together for a moment, and their hands pause while they think. ~Asri was grumbling at me in his texts about the mushrooms in the stroganoff, so Toriel likely had to make Frisk an entire separate meal. After all...~

They stop again. ~I am sorry. You hardly need me to tell you about what upsets Frisk. You are a close and dear friend of theirs, after all.~

That quiet wariness never leaves them, you've noticed. But right now, they seem more upset than anything else. ~I'm not angry at you.~ No... disappointed is a better read. ~I know because I know Frisk. But you're used to having to explain it to people. Aren't you?~

Chara's hands are always so sharp when they sign. ~And you are absolutely someone I do not have to explain Frisk's needs to, and I should know that!~

~Please don't be angry with yourself,~ you sign, as slowly and non-threateningly as you can. ~I'm not angry with you.~

Chara seems just a little more tense now. ~I know you are not. But I cannot help how I am.~

~I didn't mean it as a demand.~ Your hands are a little shaky now. ~I'm sorry.~

Chara shakes their head. ~That is clear to me as well. It is simply... ask as politely as you may, it will change nothing. Well-meaning or not, such requests only give me cause to remember patterns of thought I have been trying to avoid.~ Their eyes fix on yours. You've never met a human with such bright red eyes. ~And I know you intended nothing of the sort. I am only explaining the tension you seem worried about.~

~You tell yourself things that aren't true, about yourself. Like Frisk. Don't you?~ There has to be something. There's always a right thing to say or do.

Chara shifts a little. ~I would dispute the claim of 'not true'. But yes.~ Their eyes bore into yours. ~You said 'like Frisk'. Are you aware of how they tried to escape those patterns?~

You know. Of course you know. Your mind fills for a long moment with marks along Frisk's olive arms, and reddish lines cutting around their ankle. ~Yes. I'm a little surprised they'd tell anyone, though. Even you, Chara.~

Chara nods at that. ~Well. It is another thing they and I have in common.~ Their hand goes to the cuff of their sleeve.

You hold out a hand, and they stop long enough for you to sign. ~Chara, wait. I already believe that you're willing to trust me. You don't have to prove it.~

Chara slowly lets their hand drop. You know what they were planning. Even from the few months you've known them, you already know that Chara will always choose to act. ~Besides, isn't it different for you and Frisk? I don't want you to force yourself to share something personal to prove yourself. You don't have to trust me the way you do Frisk.~

Chara hugs their knees to their chest; it makes their signing clumsy, but you can understand. ~You deserve better from me, Shelta. I know from how Frisk treats you that you are a deeply thoughtful and trustworthy person, and yet here I am...~

Their gaze jerks away from you, and you nearly topple over when you follow it to find a monster standing next to the couch. You know Sans, of course, but you never felt even a hint of him approaching. Were you just that focused? Or... perhaps there's another reason.

The skeleton tugs off a pair of mittens and flexes long, bony fingers, and then he begins to sign. His movements are slow and relaxed, and each sign has the bare minimum of motion, but there's never danger of misinterpreting him. ~do you mind if i talk to chara for a sec, kiddo? out loud, that is. i can go somewhere else if it bothers you for two hearing folks to talk in front of you.~

Honestly, in this case it doesn't, and you sign as such. Mostly because he asked first, and he's aware that it could be upsetting. It certainly would have been for some of your other deaf friends. But he's not doing it because he's taking you for granted or forgetting you're there. Maybe Chara takes comfort in the sound of his voice - you yourself have a few people, like Frisk, for whom the sight of their familiar register is calming - or maybe he wants privacy for himself or Chara. But there's a genuine reason, and he asked. So you wiggle yourself into the seam between two cushions and let yourself gradually sink into it.

You watch Chara while Sans talks to them. Not their mouth, of course - that would be invading their privacy. They say little at first, and they pointedly look neither at you nor at him. But their fists have already unclenched, and after a long while they lean back. They let go, and their legs sprawl slowly out flat in an almost petulant motion. They cross their arms and blow on their bangs a few times, but when you glance at their face they're looking at Sans, and their expression is calm.

They look... relaxed, really. Settled and quiet. But they could be more so. You're the one who made them so upset and nervous in the first place, so... you can just withdraw, for a while. This couch was built to hold Asgore's imposing frame; literally disappearing in the seam between the huge, heavy cushions is actually possible, and you close your eyes and do just that.

A soft thud minutes later startles you from your isolation, and you lean forward just enough to peek out of the couch. Chara is sprawled out on their belly and shaking with uproarious laughter, punctuated every so often by the thump of their fist against the arm. Sans stands nearby, shaking as well, and the slant of his eyes makes his permanent smile far more meaningful than usual.

Earlier, you'd thought that Sans knew Chara, and that he'd been moving carefully because he was used to their alertness. Now, though, you're absolutely certain that it's more than that. Sans is Chara's _friend_ , and you know them well enough to know how rare it is that someone can say that.

Honestly, looking at them, you feel jealous. You've seen glimpses of Chara like this before; usually with Frisk or Asriel or sometimes Asgore, but every now and then they've shown it to you. When they're unguarded, Chara is incredibly fun to be around: sharp and playfully mean, yes, but wild and imaginative and expressive. And you wish you could see them like this more often. You can't force them, and it would be wrong to try, but seeing Chara drawn so easily out of their shell by Sans...

Well. Just because you know something's the right thing to do doesn't make it easy.

Chara turns to look back at you, and they smile. They speak slowly, mouthing each word. "Don't worry. You haven't missed anything important _sofa_."

You snort, just a little. ~No wonder you two wanted specifically to _speak_.~

Chara's hands are as sharp as ever, but their motions are fluid and relaxed. ~I do know a few sign jokes, but spoken wordplay has always been my specialty.~

Sans is still shaking with laughter. ~well, now that we're feeling a little more _limbic_...~

He finger-spells the last word. Chara buries their face in their hands with a huge grin, but you're not really sure what a "limbic" is even if you can guess what the pun's supposed to be.

When they're done laughing, Sans signs again. ~good time for lunch, do you think?~ He turns, and after a moment you feel the heavy footfalls of your foster father in the room. When you both nod, he looks up at Asgore for a moment and considers. ~hm. think i'll take you two kiddos first, then come back. that all right by you, your majesty?~

Asgore nods, and he signs as he speaks. It's a habit of his, and fairly impressive in your eyes. "I think that would be just fine. As long as you don't mind making a second trip? Even with your shortcuts, it cannot be easy going to Ebott and back and back again."

Sans gives a lazy shrug. ~shouldn't be too bad. if it really bothers you, though, could walk back from grillby's place aboveground. i have a shortcut set up that anyone can use between the two.~

~But Sans,~ Chara signs with a frankly adorable grin on their face. ~Isn't it behind the fire door? None of us are made of fire.~

Sans rolls his eyes, but they're twinkling anyway. They've even changed color to a warm amber that makes you think of his younger brother for some reason. ~c'mon, you two.~

He holds out his hands. You take one, and Chara takes hold of his sleeve. Once you're both holding on, Sans turns and leads you across the room. As you pass through the door, instead of Asgore's kitchen, you step through into a well-lit diner. The soft firelight makes the polished wood of the floor and walls glow. The seating is a bit of a hodgepodge; some of the tables have small stools, some have booth seats, and some have no seats at all.

Chara steps lightly forward and seats themself at the bar. There's wooden shelving behind it that holds a number of bottles that reflect the flickering light, and off to one side, behind an old, refurbished jukebox, a neon sign proclaims, "GRILLBY'S". Which brings you to the only other person in the bar. A tall monster stands primly behind the bar, wearing a classy dress shirt and a vest. He looks a little shorter than Papyrus, but still taller than most humans. Of course, it's hard to tell since his head is literally a constantly-wavering flame with glasses somehow perched on it around where the eyes would be on a human's face.

Chara settles themself almost primly into their seat and raises their hands. ~Hello, Grillby. Slow day?~ (They taught you his name sign earlier, when Sans brought them by just after breakfast and suggested this outing.)

Grillby sets down the glass he was polishing and raises his hands. Thick leather gloves cover them. ~Actually, the lunch rush just finished. Will it be just you two today?~

Chara shakes their head. ~No, Sans is coming by with my father as well.~ Their hands stop for a moment. ~Actually, I should ask him something... just a moment.~

They tug out their phone and start texting furiously. Grillby turns to you. ~Hello. I don't believe we've met. I am Grillby, although I imagine you knew that, as you came here with Chara.~

You nod, and make your name sign to him. He nods in return. ~I prefer to ensure my customers are all attended to before pleasantries, if you do not mind. I will be happy to talk more freely once everyone is served.~

That's reasonable enough; in fact, you can feel a thump on the floor, and look back to see Asgore staring in confusion at a door that he... probably can't actually fit through standing up. Still, he takes a seat at one of the tables with no chairs. It... still looks a little small for him. He looks up and calls across the room. Grillby takes notes down, and after a moment you realize that Asgore is signing as he speaks. He does that with you a lot, too, but you've never actually asked him why - there are certainly a few reasons you can think of.

Grillby nods to Asgore after a long moment. ~And you two?~

~A burger,~ Chara signs immediately. ~Unquestionably. I would recommend the same, Shelta; Grillby's burgers are simply the single best meal he prepares.~

Oh. You never actually brought this up, did you. You can't bring yourself to sign for a long moment, and Chara looks confused... no, worried. ~You didn't say anything wrong,~ you hurriedly sign. ~It's, um.~ Well, nothing else for it. ~I, um, don't eat beef.~

Chara spins their stool to face you. ~Oh?~ They look... more curious than anything else. ~Just beef?~

You shrug. ~I'm trying to be vegetarian, except with eggs, but it's a little hard getting used to being able to be strictly anything. But absolutely not beef.~

Chara nods, and Grillby raises a hand lightly. ~If it helps, I could make you the monster food version. Most of my monster customers prefer the substitutes we used while the Barrier held.~

~Just so long as it isn't made of sequins,~ Chara signs, and Grillby shakes his head slowly. ~Perish the thought,~ he signs back.

Now you really have no idea what they're talking about, so you just sign, ~If it's not actually meat, that's totally fine.~

Grillby nods, and slips out through a door beside the bar. Chara spins back and forth a little on their stool, and you notice Sans sitting a few seats down on the other side and looking pensively at... a bottle of ketchup? Okay, then. ~Specifying beef in particular, out of other meats...~ Chara's signs are slow. ~The only faith I can think of along those lines is Hindi.~

This takes a little explaining. ~Frisk's told you about the Roma, right?~

Chara nods. ~About where the Roma came from, their spread across the continent, a few other things.~ They grin sharply. ~They also told me that most of their signs for Roma terminology came from you, by the by.~

You consider, and make a sign. Chara nods. ~Yes, they told me about marime. Mostly in the context of explaining why their parents were justified in their despicable treatment of them.~

They're scowling now, and you nod. ~Marime is descended from Hindi purity rules. The Roma - the ones who're Roma by blood - brought them along with them from India. I thought it was the least I could do for the people who adopted me.~

Chara leans back. ~Shelta, don't draw that distinction, please. You are as much a Roma as Frisk is - not that we have lacked times where we had to persuade them of that, have we?~ They nod. ~But please continue. Are you Hindi yourself?~

They seem almost... regal. Then again, they actually are, aren't they? ~I don't know exactly yet. It's not a religion a lot of Roma follow, actually, just some traditions half-remembered from India. Right now I'm trying to work my way through the Upanishads and, well, see if it's a philosophy I agree with.~

Out of the corner of your eye, you see Grillby return to the bar with two plates. Chara eagerly digs into their food, and you look over to your plate. It really does look appetizing, and you kick yourself a little for wondering if it might really be beef. You're fairly sure Chara would speak up, and sharply, if it were a trick, and Asgore would definitely be trying his best to discretely warn you. Just because some people aren't trustworthy isn't reason to assume Grillby isn't.

He gently taps on the bar for your attention, and you turn to see a small extra plate in front of him with several small pieces of what looks like cheddar. ~Would you like some?~ he signs. ~I was unsure whether your diet also disallows milk.~

You take off the top bun and gently slide the burger over. ~No, that's fine. Ahimsa is about avoiding needless cruelty, so as long as the cow isn't treated badly it's fine.~ You pause. ~It's also why I see eggs as fine even if most people don't seem to. There's no actual animal in an egg used for baking.~

Grillby nods. He carefully arranges the pieces atop your burger, and then slides off his gloves. You gasp - an old habit from the days before you lost your hearing. His hands are constantly changing shape like the fire that makes up his head, but the shape of palms and slender fingers is never lost. They're beautiful, and they shed a gentle light.

Grillby leans in to lay one of those hands carefully over your food, and seeing his fingers so close makes you wonder a little if he plays piano. When he withdraws, you have to force yourself not to start drooling. The pieces of cheese have melted together perfectly into a single amber layer that bubbles even as it spreads over the patty and drips over the edge in a dozen places. You press the bun back into place and take a huge bite.

And... Chara was definitely right. The bun is crusty like good-quality Italian bread, but it crumples readily before your teeth, and the patty beneath, whatever they use to make it, is just the right sort of tender to contrast with the bun. The cheese oozes under the pressure of your teeth, and the whole thing is hot enough to keep you chewing fast and moving everything around but just barely not hot enough to actually burn your tongue.

You end up chewing long enough that you can feel the food cooling in your mouth. When you finally swallow, Grillby leans lightly on the bar, and those fiery hands dance. You remember how his signing seemed stiff before, and you suspect now those gloves were the reason. Grillby's register is beautiful and fluid, and somehow despite the wavering of his hands you never once miss a sign.

No, not "somehow". Not "despite". Grillby goes out of his way to make sure of it. ~That's much better. Now we can talk more properly, if you want.~

Chara glances over. ~Want me to relay for you? You have your hands full, after all.~

You glance right back. ~You've got your mouth full.~

Chara flashes you a sharp grin and returns to their burger. Grillby nods slightly; you think he's laughing. ~I'm curious, I have to admit, seeing a young human coming here alongside Chara and the king. For that matter, the king isn't a frequent visitor, nor was he even before the Barrier fell.~

You turn to look back at Asgore for a long moment. He's busily munching away at some sort of pot pie, but he waves to you and smiles. ~I'm a friend of Frisk's, but we were separated before they came here. I was bouncing between families for a while, until the king adopted me.~

Grillby's flame bobs a little more this time. ~He always was the fatherly type. I remember Undyne would always have a few wild stories to tell about him when she came in.~

~I'm grateful,~ you sign slowly. ~He seems nervous a lot, but he's good to me. I wasn't having much luck in the system.~

Grillby nods slowly. ~I have a daughter, myself. I keep very long hours, however, so she grew up rather independent. Still, we cherish each other. I am glad you have someone to cherish as well.~

Chara glances over. ~Frisk said someone from their caravan adopted you, correct?~

You nod. ~Yes, but they weren't able to prove it when pressed. They had to flee to avoid being charged with kidnapping me.~

Chara winces. ~That is not what I meant to ask, and I apologize for reminding you. But... what was that like, for you?~ Grillby looks curious too.

~They were good people,~ you tell them both. ~They were very upfront about what life as a Roma would be like, but I agreed to go along anyway. They took care of me, and Frisk too sometimes, after Frisk's birth parents stopped trying.~

You stop there, because Chara is suddenly incredibly tense. You offer a hand, but they shake their head. ~That will not help me as it would for Frisk,~ they sign, sharp and restrained. ~I will be fine. I just need a moment to... manage some unpleasant reminders.~

Grillby slides a small brown bottle across the bar to Chara, and they wrench the top off and drink aggressively. He turns to you and signs. ~I am even more glad, then. Asgore must be a great comfort after losing that stability.~

You can't help but smile. ~Frisk hasn't told you about Roma, have they? We didn't usually stay in one place for more than a handful of months. That's not exactly stability.~

Grillby's head bobs again. ~But your adoptive parents remained stable throughout each move, didn't they? You still had the people around you.~

~And Frisk,~ you add, with a grin. ~They were my interpreter. I knew I wanted them to do that as soon as we met.~

Grillby literally lights up. ~Ah, Frisk owes their knowledge of sign to you, then? It is, I admit, mollifying to meet someone new I can talk to like this. I am... very averse to actually speaking aloud.~

~He is,~ Chara confirms, not bothering to set down the fries in one hand. ~I think I can count the number of times I have heard him speak aloud on my fingers.~

Grillby shakes his head a little. ~Well, they are right. I am mute by election, though I can hear just fine. I would have a difficult time with my customers otherwise, after all, since the monster who usually interpreted for me is no longer a regular.~

~I'm deaf,~ you volunteer. ~My birth parents paid for me to learn ASL before they died. Frisk knows sign because it was the only way they could communicate with me. But then we both turned it into a secret language that only our friends knew. It was a good way to talk without some of the adults knowing. Not everyone liked us doing things like sneaking out to the movie theaters.~

Grillby nods again. You glance down and realize your burger's down to the last bite, and you pop it quickly into your mouth. ~It really was good. What do monsters use instead of meat?~

Grillby shakes his head. ~Various things, often involving magic. Sans, for example, uses  _typha_ plants to make his hot dogs, while that rabbit salesman who used to live here uses magic heavily to create his Nice Cream. My own is a mixture of the two.~

You've met the rabbit in question a few times, and you're a little surprised at that revelation. Then again, it's unlikely monsters had access to milk before the Barrier broke.

Chara looks wistful now. ~Magic is pretty amazing like that. I can remember, really vaguely, a tailor monster who actually made the fabric they used purely from magic.~

You think of the picture Frisk sent you, and the headscarf they said Chara made them. ~Can you do anything like that?~

Chara looks shocked. ~Goodness, no. I consider myself lucky to have the little that lets me preserve my knitwork from becoming ripped or frayed.~

Grillby bobs his head. ~I cannot, myself. I have a partner who supplies me with the magic base, which I then mix with the other ingredients and cook.~ He leans in a little closer. ~How long have you been around monsters, Shelta?~

News of the monsters' return had flooded the world three years ago, but they still haven't spread too far out. Honestly, it wasn't until Frisk showed up out of nowhere and brought you to meet with Asgore that you first saw one in person. ~I was in Wales when the Barrier broke. It's really just the half a year since Dadsgore adopted me.~

Chara spins in their chair and blinks. ~You're _Welsh_?~

You turn, still nibbling on one of your last few fries. ~Welsh and Irish. They sent me back there at first when they took me from my Roma family. Then I bounced all over the isles, and a couple times to France.~

Chara scratches their head. ~Wait, so there are Roma in Wales?~

You shake yours. ~There are the Travellers, but those are a different people from the Roma or the Sinti or the like. We moved to the continent before I lost my birth parents. That's where I met Frisk's caravan.~ You pause. ~They were in love with the idea of the Travellers. Maybe too much. It's where I got my name, actually.~

Grillby shifts. ~Have you ever visited Mount Ebott, then? Or seen the Underground?~

You frown a little. ~Most of the people who I could ask to bring me there wouldn't really want to, I think. Bad memories, especially for Frisk.~

Grillby's head flickers and brightens. ~I think you mean 'here', Shelta. Why don't you go take a look around? Chara, Sans, would one of you be willing to show Shelta about?~

Chara turns and actually smiles. ~I can take him. Sans, can you help my father get home when he finishes? We shall come back here afterwards and ask someone to drive us from the other diner.~

Sans nods. ~ _snow_ problem, kiddo.~ He hands Chara a thick jacket, and tosses you another one. It's a reddish violet coat, hoodless but warm, with vertical white stripes along each sleeve and a wide white band around the belly - you recognize it as one of your own right away. So that's what Chara was texting about before. You don't get it, it's late spring and you barely need a windbreaker most days, but Sans doesn't do things without a reason.

(You notice the ketchup bottle is dented, as if squeezed dry, and a few drops have landed on Sans' hoodie. Well. Just because you can't think of the reason doesn't mean he doesn't have one.)

Chara slips on their coat - a deep green with crossed yellow stripes and fluffy golden trim around the hood - and motions to yours. ~Trust me, you will want this.~

You slide it on, and Chara tugs up their hood. It makes you think a little of a mane adorning their face. They turn and sign briefly back and forth with Asgore, and then make for the door.

You turn to sign to Grillby. He nods. ~Enjoy yourself. I will have some snacks and cocoa waiting if you want them when you return. It was wonderful meeting you, Shelta.~

Chara's waiting impatiently by the door, so you scoot over to them. They open it and step out.

When you follow, your feet instantly sink into a white carpet of snow. It's bracingly cold, far too cold to match the season. No wonder Grillby signed "here".

~Chara?~ you sign. ~Are we in the Underground?~

Chara grins fiercely at you, and motions for you to follow. ~Welcome to Snowdin Village, Shelta. Let me show you the places we called Home.~

 


	7. Verse 2 - Asriel ~ The Prince Seeks To Stand Still

Things are actually going a little better after lunch. Frisk must have taken their medicine, because they're handling things just a little more easily, but their words are softer and just a little slower. Their medicine usually does that to them for a few hours.

But it's more than just that. Taking it just helps them stay calm for a little while. Frisk is getting through to these people. It helps that the jerk who wouldn't stop calling them that nasty old slur is being suspiciously nice, but Frisk is doing even better than usual. Everyone is listening to a twelve-year old child ambassador making a case for everything you're hoping to convince these diplomats to agree to.

You, however, are feeling more and more pent-up. Frisk needs you, but you want less and less to be in this room every time someone else talks. Maybe you should've brought _your_ medicine, but... you can't afford it making you weird, right? Besides, Alphys said to be aware and stop if something went wrong, right? That this stuff is still a new science and it might not work for monsters the same way it does for humans? So it's fine that you left it behind.

Tiny fingers brush through the fur on the back of your palm, and you look down to see Frisk glance up at you. They tap a folded paper against your claw, and you step back to read it quietly.

_Go ahead and call Chara. I'll be fine for a while. Promise._

You excuse yourself and slip out into the hall. That's probably a good idea, honestly. Texting is okay, but you haven't actually heard Chara's voice since yesterday.

The phone clicks in your ear somewhere between the second and third rings, and you're pretty sure that timing means that Chara can't use video calling right now. Sure enough, the phone rings again before you would've had time to lower it.

'Sorry," their voice chirps in your ear. "Video calls won't work here, we'll have to settle for voice for now. On the bright side, Frisk has already given me the update, so we can devote this time to just us."

You nod. "Not much since lunch. Frisk's just sort of laying out the arguments. And, well."

"You wanted to hear your partner's voice." Chara's voice is sharp and playful. "Even after all these years, you remain so wonderfully the same."

"Don't act like you didn't want to hear mine," you grumble.

Chara laughs. "When did I ever imply otherwise?" They sigh softly. "Of course I miss you, Asri. I miss you both. Why do you think I'm taking steps to surround myself with as many of our friends as I can?"

"Anime night?" you venture.

Chara snorts. "Naturally, once Undyne comes home. I even intend to invite Shelta. It gives Alphys an excuse for subbed, but I will suffer in silence if it means he can participate."

Subbed is better anyway, but you've long since decided loving Chara means putting up with all the ways their taste is bad and wrong. Besides, they never seriously insist on dubs, except for that one series with the giant robots and the people named after cards.

"What've you been doing today, anyway?" you ask. "Hanging with Alphys already?"

"Not yet." Chara's voice is relaxed, even if they sound just a little melancholy. "Sans came by, and he dropped me off at our father's home. He made pancakes."

"Don't suppose he saved any for Frisk and me?" you offer.

Chara laughs. "There might be leftovers. I think the texture of the lemon peel would set off Frisk though. Anyhow, we gave Grillby some business for lunch. We plan to head over to Alphys' home in a little while."

You pause. "Who's we?"

Chara sounds confused. "Myself and Shelta. Asgore already departed for home, and you know as well as I that Sans is not much for walking."

Shelta. Chara's alone with Shelta. With a human. "But Chara..."

They cut you off, but their voice is calm. "I will never stop hating them, Asri. That hasn't changed. But I already made an exception for Frisk. I'm willing to see if Shelta can be one too."

An exception, huh. "What about you?"

A short and familiar laugh is their reply. "That is what I have you and Frisk for, Asri." They pause. "Asri, Frisk showed me some of their memories with him. I think it will not be a risk to offer him a chance to be trusted. He was good to them. He shows caution with me, as well. Shelta can read people very well, and he takes care with those he puts in the effort for."

This is going nowhere. "Hey, why can't you video with me, anyway?"

Chara pauses. "Video calling won't work underground, remember? Even if the old tower can connect to the main surface networks, it is not compatible with full video transmission."

You find yourself leaning against the wall a little firmly. "You're underground? Why?"

Chara seems puzzled. "Grillby still has his old place in Snowdin. We had lunch there, for old time's sake, and I decided to show Shelta around the Underground a little. It has been... a long time." They pause, and their voice takes on a fake brightness you recognize. "You were wrong, by the by. Those flowers are growing just fine without anyone to take care of them."

Why are they _there_? "Chara, there's no reason for you to go there. Especially not one to bring Shelta there..."

Chara's voice calms. "I asked him to wait by the old stairs. And the mere fact that you cannot cognate a reason does not mean that none exists."

"Even so... Chara, you should head back." You don't like the idea of them being there, honestly.

(You realize about ten seconds later that you said that bit out loud.)

"Asri." Chara's voice is almost a whisper. "I know you mean well. I also know you are worried that me being here will worsen my mental state. But you are verging dangerously close to giving me orders - and I do not follow orders, even from a prince. I am, after all, arguably as regal as you."

You're... a little put out. "I just... why _there_?"

Chara sighs. "I also am not obligated to give you my reasons." You can _hear_ the deep breath they take. "Frankly, I do not think it would help to tell you. I doubt even Frisk would understand. I wanted to come here, and think about things." They pause, and their voice gets softer. "Not harmful things. I promise, Asri. I'm not nearly that poorly off right now."

Your phone beeps, and you open the picture almost automatically. Golden flowers fill your screen. "They're beautiful, are they not?" You can barely hear Chara's voice. "It feels so strange, knowing something like this could come from me, however indirectly."

They are beautiful. They've spread out a little in the years since Frisk carried you home; you never went back since. Still, even if they're not as neat anymore, they're thriving just like they always have been. If a human does follow in Chara's footsteps again, they'll be perfectly safe.

(Heck, Frisk was totally fine, and they're so tiny and frail. You remember them getting up and walking around pretty soon after you saw them fall.)

(You also remember another sort of yellow flower, though, and you squeeze into a corner and stare very pointedly at your screen and you absolutely do _not_ cry.)

Chara's voice breaks in on your thoughts. "Do you think me strange, Asri? When I stand here, I feel more... alive. More as if all this is _real_." You know they're shivering, even if you can't see. "It all really happened. Our plan, the price you paid, my time with Frisk and the other fallen humans, the breaking of the Barrier... and then Frisk's greatest triumph. I'm _alive_ again. Frisk and the others brought me back from the dead, and in some strange way, this old grave is proof to me."

"'m sorry. I really don't get it." Your voice is husky (so is theirs, shut up) and you have to take a breath. "I really don't like this, Chara."

Chara gives a bright little laugh that makes your soul chilly. "Of course. I should have realized. You _would_ be thinking of that. I am sorry, Asri. I should have thought ahead."

How can you not? You'll never forget that. Your hands still ache a little sometimes. "I'm fine, Chara. You don't have to..."

"You're crying." Chara's voice is direct. "Even after all this time, you remain such a crybaby."

"I am not!" you loudly declare, and hastily look around the hall. Nobody seems to notice.

"I do not recall saying that is a bad thing, Asri." Their voice is warmer now. "But I will never pass up an opportunity to tease you, even about things I would never want to change."

You catch your breath. "Big kids don't cry."

Chara's voice catches for a moment. "I was a damnable fool to say that, Asri. It was a terrible lie I told myself until I believed it. And then I tried to make you believe it as well." They pause. "So I suppose that makes two awful false rules I tried to make you accept."

This isn't good. You think for a long moment. "Frisk told me you stuck to it, though. You weren't just saying it to make me go along with it."

Chara sighs again. "I was wrong nonetheless, Asri. But thank you." There's a longer pause. "I needn't stay here much longer, in any case. But please just accept that this is helping me, even if you cannot understand."

You doubt you'll ever understand, but pushing things is probably a bad idea. "Hey. Wasn't that the first place you sang to me?" You're sort of desperately thinking of better times.

"It was." Chara's voice is warm again. "You used to love this little nook. We came here so often when I was recovering from my fall."

That's a little better, and you spend some time talking about how things were. After a while, Chara sighs. "I should go, however. Shelta is waiting for me, after all."

You don't want to hang up. "Chara?"

Chara's laugh is softer this time. "I am far too indulgent with you. Even if you are my partner."

"I, um." Talking about old times and song made you think of something. "Remember when you used to tell me stories? About the boy who lived with his musician dad and a bunch of ladies from space? Who were also rocks?"

Chara bursts into laughter. "Asri, are you incapable of remembering the phrase 'Crystal Gems'? I would swear in open court I've heard you refer to them that exact way previously. But yes, I remember. Have you really never taken the chance to see the original? I know I've told you that those stories were not of my own making."

Who cares if it's a show? The important part was Chara telling you the Gems' stories. You never bothered to watch any of it, and you privately asked Alphys not to show it if you're at an anime night.

(Come to think of it, those stories helped you both see things, sometimes. You still remember when Chara came home, upset because Mom had refused to teach them combat magic, and you'd used the story of when Pearl started training the Gems' human friend to help them understand _why_ Mom wouldn't do it.)

"We never finished," you say aloud. "But it's been a long time, so..."

"You want me to start from the beginning?" Chara laughs lightly, and you feel so... calm. "All right. When you get home. I ask only that you offer Frisk the chance to join us."

You sort of want this just for yourself, but Chara gets mad when you say stuff like that these days. You'll just have to hope Frisk doesn't want to listen too. "All right."

(Who are you kidding? Frisk loves even just the sound of Chara's voice. Not that anyone _wouldn't_ if they'd heard Chara sing.)

Chara's voice is soft again. "I don't need to be here any longer, so I will go rejoin Shelta now. I'll talk to you later, Asri." Then there's a soft click.

When Chara uses that tone, it means they're making you a promise. And... they're being honest. It's _weird_ and you're kind of worried about it, but Chara visiting their own grave is somehow making them feel... better.

(Then again, Chara's always been kind of morbid when the mood strikes them. They even make morbid jokes about how morbid they can be.)

It takes you a moment or twelve to realize that someone is knocking on the wall next to you. "YOU LOOK UNWELL, PRINCE!" booms a voice you couldn't possibly mistake. You immediately stare up and down the halls.

Papyrus crouches down beside you, and you marvel again at how he's still somehow taller than you. You'd _better_ not be done with your growth spurts. "I CAN LEAVE YOU BE IF YOU WISH," he continues, "BUT I WILL HAPPILY LISTEN IF YOU WANT TO TELL ME WHAT IS TROUBLING YOU!"

"... is Frisk doing okay?" You're not sure you do, honestly. Papyrus is... well, he tires you out sometimes. He expects the impossible, of everyone, and never stops encouraging people closer to it. What's wrong with just appreciating where you are so far, sometimes?

Papyrus nods quickly. "FRISK IS HOLDING THEIR OWN QUITE WELL!" he informs you. "WHICH IS WHY I AM HERE! TO CARRY OUT MY DUTY AS A VERY GREAT ROYAL GUARDSMAN!"

Well... maybe it'd be okay to indulge him a little. Now that there's a way to _be_ in the Guard without having to train to fight humans, he's finally gotten to join up. Plus... well, he was the one you talked to most after you got bored of... stuff.

"I was talking to Chara," you tell him. "I always hate hanging up."

Papyrus nods again. "I ONLY WISH WE COULD DO A BETTER JOB HELPING YOU BEAR BEING APART FROM THEM," he responds. "STILL, YOU HAVE MY WORD THAT FRISK AND I WILL DO OUR BEST TO DO JUST THAT!"

"I'm also worried," you find yourself confessing. "Chara's alone with a human. Chara _hates_ humans. And they're in the Underground. Why would they want to go back there? Or look at..." You cut yourself off; Papyrus doesn't need to know where _exactly_ Chara is.

"I UNDERSTAND." Papyrus nods. "BUT I THINK PERHAPS CHARA SEES THE UNDERGROUND DIFFERENTLY! WHILE YOU MIGHT BE CONTENT TO LEAVE AND NEVER RETURN, CHARA MAY NOT FEEL THE SAME WAY. BUT YOU WOULD KNOW BETTER THAN I WHY THAT MIGHT BE SO."

He has a point. Now that you think about it, he _really_ has a point. It was never a prison for Chara, was it? "AS FOR THE HUMAN," Papyrus continues, "ISN'T FRISK A HUMAN?"

"Frisk is special," you point out, because it's true.

"AND MIGHT NOT SHELTA BE SPECIAL AS WELL?" Papyrus looks so _pleased_ with himself for guessing _which_ human Chara is with. "I DO WORRY SOMETIMES CHARA THINKS THEY CANNOT BE GREAT JUST AS THEY ARE, BUT IT IS THEIR CHOICE TO OFFER SHELTA THEIR TRUST AND LOWER THEIR GUARD."

"... and what if I don't trust him? What about my advice?" It's... not exactly like Shelta is a danger, being as he's younger than the two of you, but.

Papyrus shakes his head. "PRINCE, PLEASE. I CANNOT HELP YOU IF YOU CONCEAL YOUR THOUGHTS FROM ME."

... yeah, that was lame. You don't know Shelta, but Frisk does, and thanks to Frisk's memories, so does Chara.

(Golly. If there's one thing that steams you to think about, that part of Frisk and Chara's friendship is the one. Chara never told you about what their life was like before you met, beyond little bits you had to realize the meaning of later; Frisk has _seen_ it, in full detail. Maybe you could've shared memories when their soul was part of yours, but... that didn't last long enough to find out stuff.)

"It doesn't make sense." You sigh. "Back before, when it was just us... Chara was always with me. They almost never went anywhere without me. They trusted some monsters, like your brother, but..."

Papyrus nods. "I THINK I SEE." He nods again. You graciously keep the comparison to a bobblehead to yourself. "IT IS NICE TO BE DEPENDED ON! BUT CHARA NEEDING YOU WON'T CHANGE JUST BECAUSE THEY CAN DO THINGS NOW THAT THEY COULDN'T BEFORE!"

"Says you." _Ugh_. That was lame. Still, it's true. What does he know?

"YES, I DO SAY!" He wouldn't be Papyrus if he reacted, would he. "AND YOU KNOW WHY! AFTER ALL, YOU KNOW A VERY GREAT DEAL ABOUT MY BROTHER AND I!"

More than he knows, even if your policy of "avoid the scary skeleton who can _summon flying laser cannons made out of skulls_ when he wants to be active" is as in effect now as it was back then. "Can you explain what you mean? I don't like thinking about back then."

Papyrus nods quickly. "WELL! YOU ARE AWARE, OF COURSE, OF THE DEGREE TO WHICH I AM OFTEN FORCED TO TAKE RESPONSIBILITY FOR MY BROTHER'S LAZY DISPOSITION!"

(Lazy, he says, but you and he both know that's not _really_ what's wrong with Sans.)

"HOWEVER! LATELY, I FIND THAT I NEED TO DO THAT LESS AND LESS," Papyrus continues. "WHY, JUST LAST WEEK I WENT TO ASK HIM TO CLEAN UP, AND I FOUND HIS BED MADE AND HIS SELF-PROPAGATING VORTEX MOVED TO THE FAR CORNER!"

That... actually is news. "But the rest of the room was still messy?"

Papyrus winks. "ONE DOES NOT GO FROM BEING A LAZYBONES TO BEING VERY GREAT LIKE ME IN A SINGLE BOUND!" He pauses, and then realizes what he just said, and groans in exasperation. You're a little tempted to join in, honestly. Growing up with Chara and your mom in the same household will do that.

Papyrus clears his throat. "IRREGARDLESS! IT DOES FEEL A LITTLE STRANGE, TO NOT HAVE SANS RELYING ON MY RESPONSIBLITY! PET ROCKS ARE FED AND SOCKS PICKED UP WITH MINIMAL EFFORT ON MY PART! I EVEN FOUND A CROSSWORD THE OTHER DAY!"

He's so obviously fishing for you to ask, so you might as well oblige. "What's so weird about a crossword? Sans likes those."

"IT WAS FINISHED!" Papyrus declares, scarf fluttering dramatically (wait, how is he making that happen when he's kneeling down?)

Impossible scarf motions aside, you sort of see why Papyrus is saying all this. But... it's not the same. "What about the Junior Jumble?" you ask, because you might as well go through the motions.

"UNTOUCHED!" Papyrus winks. "SANS EVEN WROTE 'your turn, bro' BESIDE IT!"

"... It's not the same." Forget the motions. "Chara couldn't go anywhere without me back then. They _needed_ me."

Papyrus lets out a long sigh that actually tickles your fur, because a skeleton breathing makes perfect sense. "I KNOW, PRINCE. AND SANS NEEDED ME, AS WELL. HE NEEDED A VERY GREAT BROTHER TO TAKE CARE OF THE THINGS HE COULD NOT, SO HE COULD HAVE THE ENERGY TO DO THE THINGS HE NEEDED TO!" He pauses. "AND, TRUTH BE TOLD, EVEN THOSE HE DID NOT ALWAYS DO."

You think of Chara - bandaged still, eyes sleepier than Frisk's and their hair a mess of tangles and cowlecks, with their brown jeans a mass of wrinkles built up over days at a time. You remember, every so often, a few weeks where almost every morning you had to catch Frisk at the door and usher them back into the bathroom to brush their teeth or wash their face or comb their hair.

(Not that combing does _that_ much to Frisk's hair. It's so wild and thick and curling; somehow it looks good no matter how messy it is... until it starts getting tangled or unwashed. It was almost a shock, when they came back to life, to remember how different Chara's hair was - soft and straight and obediently neat when Chara bothered to shape it.)

"I think I get it," you say when you realize you've been silent too long. "But now..."

Papyrus nods firmly. "EVEN NOW, HOWEVER, SANS NEEDS ME, AND CHARA NEEDS YOU! AND NOW YOU HAVE FRISK TO NEED YOU AS WELL!" He tilts his head. "AND BESIDES, EVEN IF BEING ABLE TO BE NEEDED MAKES ME FEEL LIKE THE VERY GREAT SKELETON I AM, I CAN STILL BE HAPPY THAT SANS IS IMPROVING!"

Be happy for Chara. You know that's the "right" thing to do, but... "Why does it have to change, though? Things were fine as they were... Chara needed me, and I could take care of everything they needed. And... and that was fine! Things didn't need to go and change and take that away..."

Papyrus' eyes squeeze together when you say that. "CHANGE IS DIFFICULT, I AGREE. BUT IF CHARA WANTS TO CHANGE, THEN THAT IS THEIR CHOICE!"

If Chara wants things to change, it means they weren't fine with how things were. But that can't be right. Wasn't life with you the best thing that ever happened to them? Aren't you their best friend, no matter what? How could there be anything Chara wasn't okay with?

Papyrus smiles. "BE AT EASE, PRINCE. I STILL HAVE TO GIVE SANS ALL SORTS OF REMINDERS. SOME MORNINGS I EVEN CARRY HIM UNDER MY ARM INTO THE BATHROOM AND SIT THERE BEING VERY STERN AND IMPOSING UNTIL HE DOES WHAT WE BOTH KNOW HE NEEDS TO DO!"

You lean in a little. "But you said he was better now."

Papyrus shakes his head. "THE PROBLEMS OUR LOVED ONES ARE GOING THROUGH CANNOT SIMPLY BE SWITCHED OFF LIKE A DROOPY, ANGUISHED LAMP! IT IS NOT AS IF CHARA CAN GO ANYWHERE, WITH ANYONE, AND NO LONGER NEEDS YOU BY THEIR SIDE!"

"Not yet," you mutter. "Chara's... changing. I don't think I like it."

"That's my fault." The soft voice tickles your ear, and you hold very still. "I'm a bad influence, remember? Have been for four years."

When you turn and look, Frisk is signing happily to Papyrus. The skeleton beams and tugs off his gloves to reveal long, slender fingerbones. Chara's told you a few times they find them beautiful. He flexes those long fingers, and then he begins to sign eagerly back. Frisk signs again, and Papyrus nods and scoops them up, letting his fingers trail and tease at their neck as he does and sending Frisk into giggle-fits that leave them muffling the sound in his...

You brake your train of thought just before it finishes, but you can still hear something like an echo of Chara cackling over the pun.

Frisk scampers up and settles on Papyrus' shoulders. You can't help smiling. "Tired?" you ask.

Frisk nods a little. Papyrus reaches up to steady them as they sign. ~Just giving my voice a rest. We still have a long while to go.~

That's true, the summit's supposed to still be going, isn't it? "Did you need to take a break? Frisk, you could've called me..."

Frisk smiles. ~No, I'm fine. Just saving my voice. I gave my argument for the big one, and they agreed to recess so people could talk less formally to each other.~

The big one. Recognition of the Kingdom of Monsters as its own sovereign nation, with all the rights that confers. (It won't be a very _big_ nation, but monsters don't need a lot of space these days, for reasons that aren't worth thinking about.) If they're calling a recess to let the diplomats discuss the proposal, it must mean they didn't just immediately decide to laugh in everyone's face for asking for it.

Which, really, you probably owe to Frisk making a compelling case for it, so. ~Good job!~ you sign, and bask in the glow of the smile Frisk returns.

Papyrus nods firmly. "WELL DONE INDEED!"

Frisk smiles down, and then covers his eyes playfully. At least, as much as a tiny human like Frisk can cover the sockets of a basketball-tall skeleton. "ACK! TREACHERY! HELP, MY PRINCE!"

Instead, you shake your head and meet Frisk's eyes. "How did you know?" you intone as dully as you can. "Tiny hands, his one weakness."

Frisk giggles even more, and leans back so Papyrus can turn around and deposit them in your lap. ~I heard some of what you were talking about,~ they sign. ~I'm sorry for making things change.~

That's Frisk for you. Apologizing for the whole world when they've never done a thing. (Well, not that they didn't go back and fix, anyhow.) Maybe if you explain, they won't feel so bad. "It's just that, well, Chara's different now. Back before... _that_ happened, they needed me. And I was all they needed. But now..."

~It's not that you're not good enough,~ Frisk signs rapidly. ~Chara loves you. You're their best friend. That's still true.~

It is, and you know it. "But then why are they going out without me? With a human?"

Frisk blinks at that. ~Chara's alone with Shelta?~ Was that... jealousy you saw for a second? After a moment, they smile slightly and continue signing. ~Chara wants to change, Asriel. At first, nobody else _could_ help them. Even Mom and Dad couldn't, right? But... they got comfortable with monsters.~

Well... that's true. Towards the end, but before the flowers, you remember seeing them knitting while nestled in your mom's lap, or curled up with their eyes closed in Dad's arms. That... felt a little odd to you too.

Frisk winks gently. ~You needed Chara too, Asriel. That's why you don't want things to change, I think.~

You... well, now that Frisk points it out, they're probably right. "But... Shelta's not a monster."

~Chara hates humans. But there are people they want to trust. Shelta is one.~ Frisk pauses. ~I'm a little worried they're trying to change too fast, for him, though.~

"Even so." You sigh. "I miss those days. I felt... good, knowing Chara needed me. That I could always make them feel better." Almost always, but Frisk doesn't correct you, and you're grateful for that. "I... don't exactly want things to change. Things were fine back then."

~They were fine for you,~ Frisk's hands are moving in a way you can only call "patient" now. ~But what if they weren't for Chara? Being the only person someone can need is nice for you. But it's not nice to be the person who's got only one person they can need.~

But... Chara was happy. You _know_ they were happy. "But you said I'm good enough. They don't need anyone else if they have me. Right? So... so what's wrong with how things were? Chara was happy..."

Frisk looks down and signs at Papyrus. ~I... how do I explain this? I can't say it right...~

Papyrus nods importantly. "IT IS ALL RIGHT! PRINCE, I BELIEVE WHAT FRISK MEANS IS THE DIFFERENCE BETWEEN CHARA BEING ABLE TO DEPEND ON YOU, AND CHARA BEING DEPENDENT ON YOU."

Frisk nods eagerly. ~Yes! That! It's not about you not being enough. It's about having other people who're enough, too.~

You sigh. This is... one of those things that makes sense to Frisk and not you. Because they understand Chara better, sometimes. And because things have happened to Chara. Things that you can't really imagine. Things that change how a person looks at the world, in a way you don't get.

Frisk does, although you have no idea why. It's a little unfair sometimes.

They're signing at you again, and you have to focus. ~You still saved them. They still love you. Making more friends doesn't change that.~ They smile. ~I didn't stop taking care of you or loving Chara when we found Shelta, right?~

You hands feel like lead as you pull out your phone and show them the photo. "Well... but what about this? I'm worried... they said stuff like 'it makes everything feel more real' and that I don't need to be worried, but..."

Frisk stares for a long moment at the flowers. ~You were wrong,~ they sign.

"They said that too." You groan a little. "But... I mean..."

~People cope in different ways,~ Frisk signs. ~There's one thing I'm worried this could mean, and I'm going to call them later. I promise.~

Papyrus tilts his head. "HM, I THINK I SEE! BY COUCHING IT IN THE GUISE OF SHOWING HIM AROUND THE UNDERGROUND, CHARA IS MAKING IT EASIER AND MORE COMFORTABLE FOR THEM TO SPEND TIME WITH A PERSON THEY WISH TO KNOW BETTER! WHAT SOCIAL INGENUITY!"

Well... that makes a little more sense. The Underground was Chara's home for... golly, technically centuries, right? They'd feel... safe there. Comfortable. But they're doing it so they can spend time with Shelta. Who you honestly don't know that well, despite the fact that your dad's officially adopted him.

But... maybe that's why. "Did you... tell Chara about Shelta, Frisk?"

Frisk nods slowly. ~Yes. It's not just because he's my friend.~

Well... you guess that's okay. Chara thinks it's worth trying to spend time with him, and... there's not really any reason you can think of they _shouldn't_.

Frisk waves their hands gently. ~Let's not forget we're both here, and Chara's there. They miss you.~ They smile, but it's nervous. ~It beats them lying in bed all day... right?~

Bah, sometimes there's nothing like just snoozing the day away. But maybe Chara doesn't want to do that today. Actually, Undyne's going to be coming back, so maybe they're killing time until the inevitable?

Papyrus suddenly turns, and Frisk sits up. When you look, you see the boy who was being super intense at Frisk during lunch. He nods. "There you are. My dad asked me to send you his way if I saw you. He's rounded up a few of the skeptics who he thinks you could convince."

Frisk nods. "What does he think of the proposal?" they ask, more quietly than usual.

The boy shrugs. "Opposed, I guess, but I don't think he's invested in it too much. He's mostly just grouchy when stuff changes. Like maps. But he won't go stomping around ranting and kicking his medicine ball tonight if the vote goes your way. Plus, he knows he's already given you enough of a hard time already. So..."

Frisk hops out of your lap and nods. "Okay. Do you know where they are?"

He nods, and looks up when you stand. He fidgets a little. "Holy smokes, monsters are tall..." His bow is... pretty good, actually. "I'm Aurik. My father is one of the officials sent to host this conference. We talked a little at lunch, but I was so focused on Frisk that I forgot to introduce myself." His eyes flick over to you. "And... you're Prince Asriel, right?"

Darn right you are. "I am indeed," you say. "You were with Frisk at lunch, right?"

Aurik glances away. "I saw them... uh, do something that made me worried they might be sick."

Frisk sighs. "He saw me taking it," they say. "Then he recognized me. So we talked about a lot of stuff."

Aurik still won't look at them. "When you came over, Frisk was saying some pretty mean stuff about themself. I was trying to convince them that wasn't right. So, um... did it help, Frisk?"

Frisk nods quickly. "Both did." You'd been wondering too. "So... let's go."

Aurik starts to lead Frisk off, and you follow. You've had enough time for yourself. After all, you want Frisk to be able to lean on you too. That's why you're here, isn't it?

(... maybe you're changing, too, after all?)

"I'll help," you tell them, and Frisk brightens up. "After all, what prince wouldn't do even this much for their kingdom?"

"More of them than you'd think," Aurik deadpans. "But sure."

Frisk takes your hand eagerly, and you set off together.


	8. Verse 2 - Chara ~ Those To Whom The Princet Is Indebted

You let out a long sigh when the phone clicks under your finger. Truth be told, you hate hanging up on him. Asri is even more clingy than you, however, and you know he would just stay on the line listening to your voice; it falls to you to stop him just as it does with Frisk.

"Soon", you told him, so you resolve to take only one last look. Besides, Shelta is waiting on you, and you of all people know how utterly dull waiting alone is.

The flowers are beautiful as you look over them, and cup one gently between your fingers. There's... something you cherish about this place. Or perhaps this is simply your own uniquely bizarre variety of Stockholm.

No. The answer is not so trite and tired. There are many reasons, and far too little time to list them all. But their sum total is that you feel grounded here. You feel at peace. Here, where Toriel buried your body after you destroyed it with poison. Here, where flowers that clung to your worn clothing and rooted in your flesh grew and became a shield to protect any who fell the way you and Peloche did.

Sometimes, you can still taste bile and green shoots and copper.

A soft thump, followed quickly by a second, draws your attention away, and... Shelta is standing there, looking either worried or sad - you are not quite in the right mental frame to tell which. He raises his hands with practiced grace. ~Are you all right, Chara? You were taking a long time.~

You raise your own hands hesitantly. ~I apologize. Asri called me and we spoke for longer than I should have allowed. I was just preparing to end my reverie and return to you.~

Shelta nods. ~Then I'm sorry for intruding.~ He shifts his weight a little, and you can tell he wants to look, and so you step aside. He stares at the flowers curiously. ~Is there anything you're willing to talk about?~

That sort of phrasing is common, for Shelta. It reminds you, a little, of how Frisk would hold out their hands or move close when they wanted to touch you. ~I would rather not.~ You glance back. ~This place is... special to me. It is a gravesite. I wanted to... think for a while.~

Shelta nods quietly. ~Did you plant those flowers, then?~

In a sense, you did, you suppose. You, and Asri, and Toriel too. ~No,~ you sign, because it does not match what he actually asked. ~The seeds of golden flowers cling tightly to whatever brushes past them. They were still holding to the clothing of the deceased.~

Shelta considers that for a long moment. For a moment, your mental eye glimpses freshly turned soil, a sweater awash in dust and seeds, Toriel kneeling with a burden in her arms. ~This is where Frisk fell, right?~

You nod, grateful for the distraction. ~Yes. These flowers are infused deeply with Toriel's magic. They cushioned the fall of six humans who climbed Mt. Ebott.~

Shelta sighs. ~I wish I hadn't been taken away. I could've helped Frisk.~

~Perhaps it was for the best anyhow,~ you point out. ~Frisk now lives with a family who loves them, rather than heartless beasts who neglected and even struck them. And monsters would never have been able to come to this resolution without Frisk's help. And in any case, those two worked to deliberately deceive everyone in the caravan until it was too late.~

~I would have known.~ Shelta's eyes are sharp. ~I wouldn't have been tricked. I would've brought Frisk along with my parents, or at least stayed to help them.~

For a moment, you imagine Shelta at Frisk's side throughout the time they and you spent in Home, and... you cannot help a smile. ~I am certain Frisk would have loved to have you along while they lived here.~

Shelta smiles shyly. ~I know I say this a lot, but thank you again for helping them. It's because of you that I got to see them again.~

~It is because of Frisk as well,~ you point out gently. ~I can hardly claim all the credit.~

Shelta shakes his head. ~Well, of course not. But you were both essential.~ His hands freeze for a moment. ~Would you... tell me about some of the things that happened on your journey? The ones you feel comfortable talking about?~

... did Frisk tell him about your proclivity to storytelling? ~I would be fine with that,~ you respond. ~I did come to the Underground to reminisce, after all.~ He holds out his hand, but you shake your head and he immediately withdraws.

You look back one last time as you lead Shelta back towards Home, and Snowdin beyond that. They can take care of themselves. They do not need someone to watch over them. Then again, flowers are a far simpler beast than a broken-down simulacrum of a child.

But still. They rooted themselves in you. They are, in a sense, your flowers. There is something to be said for that, about you, something positive even. Perhaps that is part of why you wanted to come here, too.

It is not very long afterwards that you reach the old tree that stands in front of Home. A deep pile of leaves surrounds the base, as always, but there are more leaves than usual still on the high branches. ~Frisk spent quite a bit of time here, as you can imagine.~

Shelta is grinning when you look back. ~Any times in particular?~

Well, one is obvious. ~When Toriel tried to surprise them with a party, and they felt obliged to reject it, they came here.~ You lean back, and the bark is rough against your back even through your shirt. ~We argued, here. It was a long while before I was able to dissuade Frisk from letting me take their body for the day, and convince them to go actually enjoy their ninth birthday.~

Shelta frowns a little. ~Why give you their body?~

He must have seen you wince, because you can see him trying to take it back, but you press on. ~Frisk never told Toriel when their birthday was. Toriel set the party to be on the same date when we celebrated my birthday back then, which in turn was the day I first came here. As far as Frisk was concerned, it was my birthday and not theirs. They wanted me to attend in their stead, as the rightful birthday child.~ You pause, but... this would likely not be news to Shelta. ~Besides, they were... less than generous to themself. They did not believe they _should_ have a birthday in any case.~

Shelta sighs audibly. ~We ran into that problem too, back in the caravan.~ After a moment, he cracks a smile. ~But you did convince them, didn't you?~

Well, he's right, and you nod, but before you can really start signing back, you hear a loud and very familiar "Yo!" and turn around to see a monster in a brown and yellow striped sweater running up to you. They promptly trip and land face-first in the leaves, and Shelta hastens over to help them up.

"Thanks!" they chirp cheerfully once they're on their feet, and then they get a look at him and blink. "Uh... whoa! Yo, you're a human! Did you fall in or something?" They look almost adorably concerned, but, well.

"MK," you call as gently as you can manage. "This is Shelta."

MK glances over. "Isn't it kinda rude to talk for someone, Chara?" They tilt their head. "... How come you're not talking, Shelta?"

Shelta just smiles peaceably and raises his hands to sign. "Shelta is deaf, MK," you explain, and start signing as you do. "He cannot hear your voice."

MK's eyes are fixed on Shelta's hands in awe. "Oh! That's that sign stuff Frisk does sometimes! I... uh... I still don't know it too well, though..." He looks down pointedly at first one shoulder and then the other, and the distinct lack of arms attached to either. "And, uh, I can't really do it myself, yo."

Shelta's smile somehow grows warmer, and he gently pats one of the spikes on MK's head. They've grown, you realize. "He understands," you note. "I know sign language myself, so I can translate."

MK leans into the human's touch, and sighs a little. "Sorry, yo. I should really try..."

You're relaying their words now as well as your own. Shelta can tell which is which by watching your mouths; he is almost extraordinarily attentive. "Be at ease. It is not a necessity for you as it was for me or for Frisk. I will introduce you, however..." You always feel slightly awkward asking this, but it is important. "Are you still using 'they'?"

MK frowns. "I'm... kinda thinking of trying out 'he' again. Maybe I just didn't stick with it long enough last time."

"You should not force yourself," you say quietly. "Not everyone is required to be a 'he' or a 'she'. Neither Frisk nor I are, after all."

Shelta taps his foot gently, and you both turn to look. ~MK,~ he signs, and you relay aloud, ~Did being a 'he' make you feel uncomfortable?~

MK coils their tail around one of their legs. "Uh... Not really, yo, but it didn't exactly feel right." They sigh. "But... I mean, what if it just didn't feel right 'cause it was new? I don't want to get stuck."

"Even if you do," you hear yourself saying, "Deep down, you will know what you really are."

Shelta glances at you. ~Chara, don't start a story you're not willing to tell,~ he warns. His hands are almost stern, but he looks worried more than anything else.

He has a point, however. You are... not sure how much you are willing to say. Still... "I knew a human once who was 'stuck' in the way you worry. She lived as a boy for a very long time, and she never once asked herself, 'Am I a girl?' But deep down, she knew. And when Toriel put the idea in her head that it was all right to _not_ be a boy, to _not_ live the way her father had demanded..."

MK is staring at you, and they scoot close. "Hey, uh. If this is hard for you, Chara..."

You wipe your eyes furiously on your sleeve, and make sure to pull the cuff back down over your wrist. "I will call you whatever you want, MK. I only worry you will push yourself in a way that will hurt you, over a concern I do not think can come to pass."

MK nods quickly. "Okay. If calling me 'he' ever starts to bother me, I'll tell you. Deal?"

Shelta smiles. ~That sounds fair. MK, do you live down here?~

"What, here? Nah, not anymore." MK tilts his head. "I mean, I used to, but..."

"So then what _does_ bring you down here, MK?" you ask. "We were taking a walk after stopping by Grillby's diner."

MK flashes you a grin. "Looking for you, actually! You weren't at Alphys' place, so she texted the king, and he said you were down here."

Well, that does make sense. "You were already going to see me tonight," you point out. "Why the urgency?"

MK flashes a huge grin. "Yeah, but that's with everyone! I wanted to hang out with you before tonight, yo!"

You can _feel_ your grin sharpen. "By which you mean that you have joined the list of those wishing to ensure that Chara is not lonely with both of my partners out of the country."

MK wilts, just a tiny bit. "Well... yeah. But, uh, looks like people have that covered already..."

Shelta taps his foot gently and signs. ~That doesn't mean you can't join us.~

"There was one more thing..." MK shifts his stance and grins at you. "How're your skills coming along?"

He knows damned well you would never turn that down. "Just a moment. I should explain to Shelta, or he'll be worried."

Shelta turns obligingly to you, and you take a moment to order your thoughts. ~Because monsters are so much more in tune with theirs, magic has spread out into almost every aspect of their culture. This extends even to greetings and celebrations.~ You fight back a snicker. ~Even PDAs have become a magical display so varied and vibrant that monsters hold _competitions_ over who has the best. MK is asking me to participate in one form of this. While it may resemble combat, neither of us seeks to harm the other.~ You elect not to tell him about the times it did mean harm. ~Think of it as showing off to one another - both our magic and our skills at evasion.~

Shelta nods slowly. ~So what you're saying is, 'don't worry that we're about to shoot lasers at each other'?~

~You've been watching far too much shonen,~ you retort. ~I apologize, but I can't sign and do this at the same time. I need to devote my full concentration.~

Shelta nods. ~Because magic is harder for humans?~

One reason out of many. ~You will see,~ you assure him, and then turn to face MK. "Well. As the challenger, it falls to you to begin the assault."

By the time MK nods, the air around him is already shining in three or four places. A feeling that is both haunting and exhilarating rushes through you as your soul emerges to hover just above your chest. MK's light quickly takes a shape similar to the spikes along the crown of his head, and they race outward in a fan that you easily graze between the lines of. As you do, you take a moment to take stock of yourself.

The red heart that is the sum total of _you_ glows a soft crimson that easily tints your clothing. Asri and Frisk both insist that your soul is the color of a sunset. In your own estimation, the hue is far more sanguine, but you admit yourself vulnerable to prior influence from less-than-unbiased sources. Still, it is far from a perfect heart. Despite all Frisk has done, despite years of the balm of their presence, you still bear deep marks across your soul. Entire fragments are missing and likely always will be. Perhaps they should - they date back to and remind of your plan, of the revenge you sought that in the end only destroyed those you loved. There is nothing about those events that you want or should forget, and these marks are an eternal proof of them.

Which is Shelta awed by? Your light, or your flaws?

The spikes rebound off of the shimmering, barely-visible barrier that every monster's magic creates around their target, and you are forced to abandon that question in favor of not being impaled. Your dodge draws you forward, but as you near MK, he performs a spinning leap and trails magic in his wake; the silvery shape of his tail, magnified by two or three times, swings wildly across the field. You were already dodging to one side so that you could circle around behind the spikes, but MK quickly swings in the other direction, so you only avoid one of his swipes.

The pain that thuds through you is not serious, but you find yourself freezing up for a moment. MK gives you a worried look, and thumps his tail on the ground. "Uh, your turn, yo!"

(Deep breaths. You willingly engaged in this contest. MK does not and would never want to harm you. Calm yourself and respond in proper kind.)

You raise your hand, and the box moves to enclose MK instead. Flowers blossom at your feet, shining in gold, and their petals shimmer into existence in the air around you. Then, as if caught in a stiff gale, they rush out in curving lines towards him.

MK dodges them easily, of course. Your display will always lack in density and complexity compared to a monster's. Magic is theirs, it is _them_ , and your own a pale pretender. But you can still excel in your own way. MK is grinning wildly as he watches the petals of your flowers slice through the air towards him.

His next turn comes soon enough, however. You can see his legs tense and move back in response; his tail swings across the field once again, and this time trails a broad spray of spikes in its wake. These ones converge as they reflect, and you dodge as quickly as you can through a gap to the side before they confine you. You have a feeling from his pout that MK wanted to goad you into dodging close to him, but you learned your lesson the last time. His tail swings a second time, and while being off to the side makes the spikes much denser when they converge, you manage to thread your way through.

MK steps back and nods as the box returns to him. For a moment, you have to focus. This next pattern is... unorthodox, to say the least. Then again, there is one edge you bring as an outsider. It's a shame that you can think of no word to encapsulate it - innovation falls short, for monsters are hardly 6incapable of that - but whatever its name might be, it is something that is yours.

For a moment, you simply finger the hilt of your onetime partner. You have far better to give that name to now, but it remains something precious to you, far more than a simple tool. You were struck literally dumb when Frisk found it, still intact, in New Home. Now, it resides in the place it has always belonged.

(You have, in turn, given far better purpose to it. No matter which way your conflicted heart sways, your father's garden is a place of warmth and sanctuary, and it should only ever be used in a place like that, aiding rather than warding or harming you. Pruning may be a form of destruction, but it is destruction with purpose, and with benefit.)

(He joins you, on some days, with comments that fail adorably to be nonchalant. He holds forth on subjects such as forest fires that wake seeds that would have slept forever without them, or the flooding of the Nile and how the land would remain barren forever without it, his voice a deep, warm rumble so steady that it almost becomes backdrop to your tending. Frisk joins you on days when he cannot. They labor to tell you about things like apoptosis, about tadpole tails and fingers and experimental cancer treatments, with a depth and fervor of detail you scarcely ever see from them otherwise that drives them until their hoarse voice gives in entirely and you are left to sit and watch their hands dance for you. You wonder, sometimes, if you once spoke of stars and nebulae to _them_ in the same tones and depths Frisk uses to teach you. Frisk's passion, at least, is obvious and entirely their own.)

(You know exactly why both of them do this, and you love them deeply for it.)

"Are you okay, yo?"

MK's voice scatters your thoughts, and your fingers tighten. "I apologize," you say. "I was... a bit caught up in thought. I'll begin now."

Your free hand is cupped before you, and an orb that shines with a scintillant blue light takes form. Streams of brighter blue material arc across its surface, and twinkling stars race out from it. (Unlike Asri's five-pointed stylized stars, your own are more tied to real imaging: tiny circles with a long diffraction line in each of the cardinal directions.) They begin sparse, and while you allow yourself to be creative with spirals and prominences MK is able to dodge easily.

The sound your knife makes as it leaves the sheath Toriel made for it makes you shiver imperceptibly, and the weight is a familiar presence as you slash a vertical slice through the air. You are of course far too distant for the blade to reach, but that is not the point. Nor is it to act as his tail did, to simply channel a projection into the field to attack directly.

Instead, the box shivers and splits down a ragged bisector, and MK stares in awe as the two halves drift a short way distant to the left and right. "Uh... yo, did you just..."

You raise a finger and wag it. "I haven't concluded my attack yet, MK..."

MK yelps and ducks between two stars just in time. The split creates a more visible inner face to both halves of the box, and when MK's next dodge makes him brush against it, in the blink of an eye he crosses to the other half, right in the path of your attack.

MK's eyes go wide as he looks at the border, and he moves back and forth several times. You aren't entirely sure whose grin is wider. "Yo! How did you _do_ that?!" he shouts.

You raise your hand just a little higher, and huge, solid arcs start to flow out from the star in the shape of its magnetic field, each dwarfing an entire half of the box. MK flashes an even bigger grin and starts to slip back and forth across the divider to dodge each stellar flare in turn; you've staggered them, of course, to avoid an attack with no escape. (Even Asri, drunk on the power of a literal deity, never did that. Well, excepting Hyper Goner, you suppose.)

The last flare vanishes, and MK nods. "Got any more?"

You do, and you motion for him to step back before a lateral slash from your knife splits each half of the box into a front and a back. You can feel sweat running down your face; clearly this is more magic than you should be using, but... you can still push a little further. You raise the star just a little higher... and then a gust of stellar wind races out in all directions, far too thick to dodge through.

The first wave catches MK square in the face, and... you feel just a little flushed at the confused yelp he makes. Then he looks at the quartered box again, and as the second wave passes between the front and rear he charges through the barrier and leaps across the space, reappearing just behind the wave. He crows in triumph... and then stares and stares around in panic at the third and final wave, frozen by indecision until it too ploughs through him.

MK stumbles forward, still all smiles, as you finally release your attack and let yourself fall to one knee. "That was crazy! But, uh, how _do_ you dodge that last one?"

You're panting heavily, but you manage to meet his eye and reply, "The idea is that you would dodge back into the rear part once the wave has passed, then leap over the next. Think of it like jumping rope. Except with quantum tunneling." That one you have to thank Sans for. It's hardly common, but if you can get him worked up he'll talk for hours about his own little corner of academia.

MK draws closer and leans in, though he pulls back when he sees you tense up. "Are you okay, Chara?" he whispers.

"Yes," you murmur back. "Just... a little out of breath..." You close your eyes for a long moment.

There is a part of you that will never cease to wonder at just how _fluidly_ your body responds to threat. The moment you feel that touch on your shoulder, your eyes snap open and you whip around to face its source. Your hand already has your knife halfway out of its sheath before you register the face in front of you.

Shelta's hand darts to his chest so quickly that it makes a soft sound. ~I'm sorry,~ he signs.

You sit and take a long breath, and feel how it shudders in your lungs. You finish drawing your knife, but let it lie in your lap. ~No,~ you manage to sign. ~It is all right. Did I miss you trying to gain my attention?~

Shelta nods quietly. ~I'm still sorry for scaring you.~

MK looks back and forth between the two of you. "Uh... what's going on, yo?"

You try to respond to him, belatedly realizing you had only been signing up until now, but your voice instead makes a familiar croaking noise. MK winces. "Oh, uh... is this one of those times?"

You nod glumly. Once again, your voice betrays you, and for once you are without an interpreter. You pull out your phone and tap frantically at the screen. _I need some time to calm down. Being touched has... set me off, somewhat._

MK nods quickly. "Do you, uh, need me to back off then?"

You motion for him to sit down instead. He is already far enough off. You glance back at Shelta. ~I apologize. When I felt you touch me, I... remembered things.~

Shelta shakes his head again. ~And I should have known that. I just thought... this morning...~

You have to laugh, just a little. ~There is nothing that makes sense about my aversions, Shelta. I love and trust Frisk deeply, but it holds me back even from them at times.~

Shelta keeps his gaze on your hands; his own are steady and slow as they sign. ~Was that a special kind of star, Chara?~

Ah. Something to focus on. Shelta is _good_ at this game. ~Yes,~ you sign in return. ~They are named for their discovering astronomers: Wolf-Rayet.~ You finger-spell the name, of course; even if there were a sign for such an esoteric astronomer's term, Shelta certainly could not know it. ~These stars are so massive and powerful that their own incredible light blows away the outer layers of the star itself, sending its own mass hurtling into space at thousands of kilometers an hour.~

Shelta is staring open-mouthed by the time you finish. ~Just how big are we talking?~

A grin creeps across your face. ~When they are formed, one or two hundred suns. But by the time a star evolves to become Wolf-Rayet, it has usually lost ten or so. Many expel virtually all of their hydrogen. Stellar winds carry away an entire planet's worth of mass in the span of a year.~

Shelta's hands go utterly still as he stares in wonder at you. ~It is all true,~ you add. ~The largest among them shine a million times more brightly than our own star. We could be placed around one as far as Pluto, and it would still be brighter in the sky.~

For a moment, you think of Kythra. "You can't choose to forget something," they had told you once. "But when I get you talking about things, you stop thinking about anything else. I think that has to be your focus. You're the sort of person who gets stuck in pink elephant loops, but with trauma instead of a dumb phrase."

By then, you'd known about the bullying that contributed to Kythra's depression, and you asked how they broke out of their own loops, if they had them. Kythra had nodded. "I did," they said. "For me, studying Torah, or trying to recite from memory, was my breakout."

As always, you refrained from commenting, but Kythra knew what you were thinking by that point. "Becoming Jewish made me part of a community that accepted me, Chara," they pointed out. "When she saw I was serious, Rabbi Yona started to help introduce me to a lot of net-groups. The local community too, but we were so scattered over the island that we almost never met up except for Seder. Most of my online presence was thanks to her; my exploration blog only really took off after her. Jews are very much a community, and community is a very big part of our stories. I think that may be in part what drew me to it, out of all the religions out there."

"So studying Torah and commentaries like the midrash make you think of them," you concluded. "I have to admit, it is far distinct from my experiences."

Kythra just grinned. "Yeah, I know. But for me... it's a system that matches how I see the world. It's not about dogma. Torah is in a way a living document; our understanding of the contract we hold with Adonai was always meant to grow and change as we do. The world is Their creation, and the more we come to know it, the better we come to know our covenant with Them. That's why the midrash was written, and why we study it and continue its tradition, after all."

You had grinned and decided to tease them just slightly. "So it was not only because of your heritage?"

Kythra had snorted right back. "I'm maybe a dram of Sephardim, Chara, and neither of my parents were practicing. It is a factor, mind, to think that I'm rejoining people who my blood might faintly connect me to, but not conclusive."

"And now," they had added," I am going to sleep, lest I wake to another lecture on spoon budgeting from a shade, and if you take my recommendation you will craft another lesson to use the next time you start to remember your time among humans."

You never did tell even Frisk about those talks. You told them only that if you did have a box, its contents would be personal; never did you mention that you and Kythra had drawn up a plan for one of your own. But perhaps its contents are left better untold.

Shelta makes a soft sound, and you snap to attention. He smiles. ~You look a lot less tense now. I think maybe it would be better if we head through the rest of the Underground now; do you agree?~

It's another way to keep your mind off of things, and another chance to talk. The real reason is not just your passion for astronomy; if it were that, you could simply curl up in a corner and dream of blazing stars and distant planets. The second person is essential; what breaks you away is your connection. A person who respects you, who listens in awe, who regards the things you have to say as worthwhile and who recognizes you as having something of worth to contribute...

Come to think of it, perhaps you are more like Sans than you already thought.

You stand, and so does Shelta. He holds out his hand for a long moment, but you know it is an offer, just as Frisk always offered. You know he can see any tension in you. After a long moment, you touch your fingertips to his. No further - you already can recall a firm hand in yours, refusing to release as it leads you onwards. You swallow, and force the feeling away by contemplating what part of the Underground to talk about next.

Shelta withdraws his hand after a long moment and looks down. ~Too much?~

You touch your fingers to the back of his hand, briefly. "More than that would have been." Your voice is hoarse, but it obeys you again as you sign for him. You glance over to MK. "We're heading to the rest of the Underground," you tell him, and he nods and hurries to keep up with you.

(Luckily, he doesn't trip _too_ often.)

The Underground is as beautiful as always, and Shelta never tires of you talking. Truth be told, your arms are a little sore by the time you reach the end. Then again, you suppose you should be happy to be in shape as much as you are after all you've gone through. That this body is healthy and active is another thing to be thankful for.

Someone has kept the trail up well, surprisingly. You suppose it makes sense, though, since some monsters still do come and go. Even MK doesn't trip that much on the way down. Shelta, of course, helps him up each time.

At the trail's bottom, before you can even wonder who you should contact, a bracingly familiar shout cuts you off. "HEY! NERDS! OVER HERE!"

Brilliant blue skin, a piercing yellow eye, and a billowing shock of red meet your eyes as you turn to face the figure charging towards you both. You start to motion for Shelta to turn, but you kick yourself when you realize that he already has spun around to flash her a huge grin and offer his arms. Undyne, of course, sweeps him into hers and gives him a deep noogie. She may respect your own issues, but Undyne will never pass up a chance to get physical with people like Shelta who do not share them.

MK scampers past you and manages to trip directly between Undyne's feet. "Hey! Uh, how come you're here, Miss Undyne, yo?"

"Waiting for you guys, of course!" Undyne crows back. "Asgore said... oh, hang on." She sets Shelta down and leans back against the car. "Asgore said Chara was giving Shelta a tour, and then Alphys said nobody'd dropped you off yet, so I told Sans I'd just wait and pick you up."

This time when she speaks, she signs too, fluid and energetic and never actually seeming to _stop_. MK looks curious. "Hey, uh... where'd you learn to sign anyway, Miss Undyne?"

Undyne flashes him a huge, toothy grin. "Me? Well... Asgore, of course!" Her good eye gleams. "He personally trained me to be Captain, you know. Truth be told... he was kinda like a father to me, especially after mine fell down."

MK glances at the ground, but Undyne stamps her foot and he snaps to attention. "Anyway! So one day I stroll into Grillby's, and there's the king and the owner, and they're just smiling at each other while their hands dart around a mile a minute." Her eye glances over to meet your own. "When he told me it was something that reminded me of his kid, well... I pretty much begged him to teach me. Besides, Grillby's a cool guy, and I wanted to talk the right way with him."

She pauses, and then thumps on the door of her car. "ANYWAY! C'mon, the sooner we get home, the sooner we can start!"

You watch as she swings Shelta over the rear door and directly into a seat, from which he promptly opens the door and helps MK clamber in. You step around to the passenger's seat and look up. "I apologize for making you wait."

Undyne grins. "I don't see it as a bad thing. It's a nice day out. Good for comings and goings, right?"

You take a moment to look over her. Undyne's wearing a loose, baggy tee and sweatpants, with a whistle and a stopwatch pressed together on a lanyard around her neck. She must have come straight from the conference. "What if I intend to make you wait just a little longer?"

Undyne reaches across to push your door open, and leaves her hand in reach. "I can wait a little longer. What did you need to do?"

You consider, and then lightly tap your palm against hers for a fraction of a moment. She withdraws. "It should not delay your reunion with your partner, come to think of it, but... I wanted to visit, at least for a short while."

Undyne nods, and settles into her seat. "No issue," she assures you. "But I do wanna get home and smooch my girlfriend a little, so..."

An instant after she hears the click of your seatbelt latching, Undyne grins wildly and slams home the accelerator. You are absolutely certain she will slow down once she reaches posted roads.

(She does, of course. Undyne would never be unsafe with others in the car.)

Alphys is already at the door when you reach her home; she must have heard Undyne's engine. She is rather quickly occupied with her partner, but she nods at your whispered request and slips you the new password.

The door creaks open and you slip down carefully. Alphys' new lab differs little from the old one, and for a moment you let yourself recall walking those dim corridors with Frisk. You learned a while ago that it is better not to engage in any way with them. They are, after all, just a thought. In any case, this is Alphys' lab, and she seems to like the ambiance. The old lab was this way for a reason, and that reason was not disuse - she felt far too responsible to the Amalgamates to allow that to happen.

Or, perhaps she simply likes her lab to look like a secret grey science lab would in animation. Whatever her reasons, you are thankful that it at least is lit well enough to see easily. "Who would design a lighting system like this?!" is a common complaint when sci-horror ends up in your trio's rotation.

Speaking of which, you wonder if you should ask the other two if they're free tomorrow night. That seems a good way to pass the time.

Your ponderings keep you occupied until you reach the old workbench, but what you seek is not on it. There _is_ a note, however. The hasty writing would make it obvious who penned it even if it were not laying on a workbench in Alphys' semi-private lab, and you hear her voice in your mind even as you read it.

"I, um, will probably forget to tell you this, if only because Undyne plus smooches is _really_ distracting! But, I'm trying a new idea with them. I've put each one in a part of the lab where I hope the decor and furnishings and stuff match up to who they are. I guess you-know-who was looking into recuperation too, because the passage I managed to decrypt last night was talking about reactions to familiar and important stimuli. I haven't gotten the entire thing translated yet, but the tone seemed pretty favorable about his results, so hopefully this helps..."

Below that is a list of locations. You make your way towards the closest.

One addition that this place has over Alphys' old lab is a in small side room, the first branch from the main hall. The presence of an old CRT is nothing new, though you shudder quietly at the reminder of that moment when Frisk fully understood what you had done; even the old tapes are here. The old sofa, which comfortably seats two monsters and can manage two plus a human child on a good night, is new, however. Alphys did not exactly entertain visitors in the old lab.

Atop the CRT is the small canister you entered to look for, and you gently take it down and settle with it in your lap. The lid opens easily, but the heart inside only shifts slightly, as if a sleeper were disturbed from their rest. (Well, an ordinary sleeper, at any rate.) When you call softly, and hold out cupped hands, it does not move. Even the few tears that drip onto it garner barely any reaction beyond the instinctual.

You should not keep the container open for long. It was designed to aid in the recuperation of souls as well as their containment, and this soul needs all the help that science can muster. But you are also aware from their testimony that it isolates; even placed next to each other, the other fallen humans could not reach one another when they were inside. And for the moment, you cannot bring yourself to close it off again.

"Hello, Kythra," you say softly, and the soul stirs in slumber again. "I am still cross at you for this, you realize. I will never see my resurrection as worth this risk to you and the others. But, since you so obviously do, it is only fair I tell you that being alive again is... wonderful."

You always open thus. "Frisk is away again on ambassadorial work, else I am certain they would have followed me down here. It bothers me, not being able to be by their side, but... they have, after all, proven time and again they can stand on their own if they need to. Even if they must stand in the city that once housed their enemy and thine."

A long moment passes between you. The heart floats gently in its haven, shining a faded pastel violet. "Asri is being a bit of an idiot again, but nothing I cannot or will not handle. Besides, visiting one's own grave is not exactly normal behavior. I can hardly blame the boy for his anxiety, particularly without his medication." You sigh. "I am finally starting to feel comfortable in a body of my own again, with senses unfiltered by another. It is... different than experiencing something through you or Frisk or any of the others. Still... there are times all of this does not feel real." A hesitant laugh escapes you. "Or perhaps part of me does not want it to be. If it were not... you would not be in this state."

The soul remains silent. No curious, even-cadenced voice reaches you, and no image of a kind olive-skinned adult with wild black hair appears to you. "Do you think me strange?" you murmur. "To take comfort in visiting my own grave? To find some joy, some self-worth, in seeing flowers growing with roots wrapped around my bones?"

Kythra still gives no answer, but you think they would have called you very strange indeed, and told you that since you could care less whether They do, that they love you for it in Their place. "I know," you whisper. "Meanwhile, I continue to fall deeply for the flirt elemental's charms." You pause. "I... was able to sleep beside them this morning, my arms around them and their sleeping form against mine. Me, of all people. I wanted you to know that."

They know why that matters, and you have no need to say it. You lift your eyes at last to address the footsteps you heard in the doorway, and meet a pair of concerned slate-blue eyes, set in a gentle face whose beautiful midnight braids contrast starkly with soft, fair skin. ~Hello, Shelta,~ you sign quietly.

Shelta steps quietly into the room, but his eyes are fixed on the container in your lap. ~I didn't mean to interrupt.~

You nod slowly. ~There was no interruption. I said, more or less, most of what I wanted to say. I heard you follow me a while ago.~ You indicate the soul nestled in your lap. ~Would you like me to introduce you? I am afraid they may not be able to perceive sign right now.~

Shelta kneels across from you and stares at Kythra's soul. This close, you can see the tiny freckles that adorn the gentle curves of his cheekbones. ~Chara, did Asgore do this to them?~

~What do you know of my father's sins?~ you respond quietly. ~Surely you understand I will not tell more than he is willing to, even to his son.~

Shelta lowers his head for a long moment. ~Seven souls,~ he finally signs. ~He told me he promised seven souls to his people, to protect their hope. And that as king, he did whatever was necessary to keep that promise.~ His hands shake, and you have to focus to make out his words. ~He also told me he was a coward to do it. He was too scared to take back what he had promised. He told me that I should only let him adopt me if I was willing to have a father who hurt six children because he was too afraid to try anything else.~

Shelta takes a deep, shuddering breath. ~I'm not stupid, Chara. I know what he means by hurt.~

You hold out your hand for a long moment, and he touches his fingertips to yours. The contact makes your every muscle a bowstring, but you still yourself. When you withdraw them, you nod. ~And yet you chose him. Toriel would have adopted you in a heartbeat, but you chose my father instead.~

Shelta nods slowly. ~He's my father, not my king.~ He looks down again. ~Did you... know them? You traveled with Frisk, so...~

~This is Kythra,~ you sign instead. ~They are one of the six souls King Asgore collected before Frisk fell into the Underground. Unlike the others, sickness claimed them instead of the king's trident or his captain's spear. They were also my friend.~

Shelta smiles, just a little. ~Will you introduce me, please?~

Speaking slowly so that he can read your lips, you clear your throat and address the soul. "Kythra, this is Shelta. He was one of Frisk's close friends on the surface, and recently reunited with them. He lives with my father now. I would let him introduce himself, but he is deaf and I am not certain you can see sign as you are." You smile. "You would like him, I think. Then again, it is difficult not to like him." You pause. "I... want you to be able to meet him. I want to be able to talk to you again, Kythra. It hurts me seeing you like this."

Shelta nods. ~What happened to them? Souls aren't supposed to be that color, right?~

~Correct. Kythra's soul is nearly drained of their determination.~ You take a breath, and wipe your eyes before you get even more tears on their soul. ~After the other six fallen humans helped to break the Barrier, they scattered, I believe to places important to them. Unlike me, they were not anchored to their bodies, having spent so long in Asgore's keeping. In the course of their duties, Frisk stumbled across each of them in turn and brought them home.~

Shelta shivers. ~So breaking the Barrier did this to them? But that was three years ago...~

~Four months,~ you correct him. ~That is how long they have been like this.~

His eyes go wide, and you nod. ~Yes. The six of them united, conducted by Frisk and directed by a certain illustrious personage you have not met, used their determination to create a physical body of magic and memory, reconstruct Asri's soul from dust spilled over a beloved garden, and restore both of us to life and physical being. It is thanks to these six fallen humans, and of course to Frisk, that I am alive again and speaking with you.~

Shelta looks thoughtful. ~And they used up their determination doing it? Is that why they're here in Alphys' lab?~

Your eyes drift down to the pastel soul. ~You can see the difference yourself. Mine is a poor comparison, as you doubtless saw earlier, but... here.~ You make a familiar motion near your chest. ~Focus on your core, on your self, and do as I do.~

It takes a few tries, but soon a gentle glow rises from Shelta's chest. It slips through his polo and nestles in his hands as a brilliant emerald heart. He looks at the bright glow of his own soul, and nods slowly. ~Exactly,~ you sign. ~The intensity of your soul represents your health, and the determination you hold.~

Shelta nods again. ~And if Kythra's soul starts getting bright again, it means they're getting better?~ He shifts. ~Is... there something I can do to help them get bright again?~

~Nobody is sure,~ you confess. ~Alphys' predecessor as Royal Scientist was the one who researched souls extensively. Kythra helped her perform some studies of her own, but he was the real expert. Sadly, he is... unavailable, and we can only rely on what parts of his notes we have managed to decode. The entirety is written in a strange shorthand he crafted consisting mostly of hands and seemingly random human symbols.~

You take a long breath. ~This is about as much as we can do, frankly. Simply let them rest, and recover, and talk to them at times. Frankly, this state is not dissimilar to being comatose.~

Shelta nods. ~If you think of something, let me know. You're Frisk's partner, and they're the reason you're alive again.~

~Are we that obvious?~ You can't help but grin a little, and lean down to whisper, "Shelta also wishes to express his thanks for what you have done for the three of us."

~Frisk might have sent me a pic or two.~ He grins right back at you. ~Besides... you want them back, right?~

~I do. Deeply.~ You sigh. "I will see your gift reciprocated, Kythra," you say softly to the little heart. For a moment, they stir, but then settle once more. With another heavy sigh, you fit the lid on and set the canister back into its place.

Shelta stands, and his eyes are quiet as they find yours. ~You're going to try and bring them back? All of them?~

~I have given my word.~ You gaze just as firmly back at him. ~They gave me back the life I threw away. I will give them back the lives my father stole from them.~

Shelta moves across to the door, but you tap your foot softly. ~I was going to visit the other five as well,~ you point out. ~Do you want me to introduce you to them as well?~

Shelta considers this. ~If it won't upset you to do that,~ he finally signs, ~I would love to meet the others.~

You nod, and motion to him to follow. He stays close by your side, and, well. Alphys might like it this way, but the new lab is still almost as creepy as the old one. Back then, you walked beside Frisk and took their hand, and so for a moment you take Shelta's and squeeze it softly. You even manage to appreciate the warmth of his smile for a moment. When a memory jams itself into your senses so forcefully that you can  _feel_ your hand being seized and your whole body pulled along by a force no child of eight years could hope to resist, his smile does not falter even when you yank your hand back as if his had scalded you. He comes close, so close that you see only that smile throughout, and clasps his hands  _behind_ your back, infinitely cautious not to touch you. When he draws back, he signs. ~Thank you,~ and then: ~So we don't get separated.~ He pulls out a ribbon in a blue you recognize instantly, so worn that you immediately pour a little magic into it when you take it in turn. Shelta beams, and keeps the ribbon taut, and you close-but-not-too-close, as you go to seek out the other fallen humans.


	9. Verse 3 - Frisk ~ The Metal of Three Stars

It actually isn't _that_ late when you reach the hotel, but it feels like it. There's a lot of kinds of tired. There's the kind where you've been around too many people for too long making too many different sounds and you just want to jam your fingernails into your thighs and curl up with the lights off. There's the kind where you're stumbling along and need to lean on Asriel or Mom or someone but you're still happy. Then there's the kind where you just feel numb and quiet and in the middle of doing things you'll realize that you stopped doing it and your eyes closed about a minute ago.

Right now, you're feeling pretty much all of them. Getting to ride on Asriel's shoulders and bury your face in the long fluffy fur where his mane's starting to grow helps, though. It's dark, soothing grey, like smoke or wrought iron, and it actually keeps the light away from your eyes pretty well.

It also helps to remind you that you're _not_ the other kind of tired, the kind you haven't really felt since you lived in the caravan.

Asriel pushes a claw gently on your leg, right above the top of your boot. "We're back," he says softly. "You okay? You're really quiet."

You plant a kiss softly on one of his horns. "Tired."

He laughs. He's starting to sound like Dad when he does, bright and loud and strong enough to make your whole body rumble. "Yeah, that's fair. You got a lot done today. Sure showed everyone who keeps saying a kid can't handle this job, huh?"

Honestly... you don't _care_ about showing people up. Even if they're jerks. Besides, they're right. You can't _really_ handle this job, not forever. Not alone.

... you're doing it again. You bury your face in Asriel's mane and hold him just a little more tightly. He sighs and presses his claws a little more into your leg. "You did great, Frisk," he murmurs. "I will spend all night telling you that until you fall asleep if I have to."

He would, too. So you'll stop. You don't say anything, in fact. After a bit, you hear the concierge say, "Good evening, Ms. Dreemurr. I was asked to request your party visit the courtyard before you retire to your rooms."

Which means someone wants to meet you. But who? Mom just thanks him and leads the rest of you through the building. You kind of want to look around at what the hotel is like, but you stay focused on your own personal storm cloud instead.

You feel light on your forehead, and then a burst of noise makes you cling to Asriel. " _DARLING!_ "

You'd know that voice anywhere, and you whip your head up. There's a gap in the building in just the right spot to let in the sunlight, and on the grassy ground ahead is a huge stage with dozens of colored lights and on the stage is a box moving on a single wheel and with a square screen covered in even more colorful lights.

"Mettaton!" you call, and wave, and suddenly the box leaps into the air. He shines more and more brightly, and you have to squeeze your eyes shut. When you can look again, a tall, gorgeous metal figure is posing on the stage. He has eyes only for you.

"Darling!" he shouts again, and you can't stop yourself from flinching. Mettaton pauses, and strolls very quickly over to you and Asriel. "Oh, dear. Not a good evening for loud noises?"

You want to say it's fine. Oh, how you want to. But... "I'm sorry," you murmur. "Today was hard."

Mettaton gently puts one of his fingers against your forehead. It's cool and smooth, and you push against him just a little. "Darling. You don't ever need to apologize for needing quiet. Not ever. Take all the time you need. And if you're feeling better later? Why, we'll welcome you with open arms, of course."

You wiggle upwards and reach out, and Mettaton scoops you lightly into his arms to twirl you around, his own laugh drowning out your quiet giggles. "And if you don't, that's fine too. There's no schedule so busy I can't snip out some time when I want to. And I very much want to. I see you so rarely compared to everyone else!" He laughs behind his hand. "It makes me rather jealous, you know."

Mom gently lifts you out of his arms. "You will keep the volume in check, will you not?"

Mettaton bows deeply. "Of course. Blooky's a whiz at that sort of thing anyhow. And if we do get out of hand and start to bother, absolutely feel free to shout at me from the balcony. At me, mind, Blooky and the other staff aren't to blame if I shine a little too brightly."

Mom just shakes her head, and turns to Asriel. "I shall take care of Frisk, dear," she says. "Stay here and enjoy yourself. I am afraid my taste in music is a bit out of date, personally."

Mettaton does another laugh. "That sounds awfully close to calling yourself old-fashioned, darling."

When you look up, Mom almost looks like she's smirking. "And there is not a thing wrong with being so," she counters. Mettaton raises his hands and gives a very sheepish look.

You motion to Asriel, and he scoots over obligingly. You smooch the top of his muzzle as a reward. "Mom's right. Have fun."

He huffs, and ruffles your hair. That's about when Papyrus comes marching up. "IS THERE ANYTHING YOU NEED FROM ME FIRST, YOUR HIGHNESS?"

Toriel shakes her head and smiles. "Only to enjoy yourself as well. And perhaps to ask if you can join in. Your brother tells me you are quite talented with the..." She trails off with an enormous grin. You can see Asriel and Papyrus both bracing themselves, and you snuggle in against her.

"PLEASE DON'T." Papyrus winces.

"Moooooom..." Asriel groans.

"The xylo- _bone_ ," Mom finishes, and grins with pride. You giggle into her arms. You don't get puns too often, but that one worked. Asriel just hangs his head; you can see he's blushing even through his dark mane.

Papyrus puts his head in his hands and groans dramatically. "AUGH! FIRST MY BROTHER INUNDATES ME WITH JAPES WHEN I GO OUT OF MY WAY TO CALL HIM, NOW THIS! TO THINK I BELIEVED MYSELF SAFE FROM SUCH TOMFOOLERY ON THIS OUTING!"

Then he remembers that Mettaton's there and freezes. The star grins. "And what outing might that be, to bring you all the way out here?"

Papyrus gasps. "He's here as a Royal Guard to protect me!" you shout, raising your arms.

Mettaton beams. "My, my. You'll have to tell me more about this, darling! I hadn't heard about your induction yet, not even a peep. I'm looking forward to a nice, long chat..."

Papyrus flushes bright blue along his cheekbones. "G-GOODNESS GOLLY GEE! WELL, IF YOU REALLY WANT TO..."

Mom lifts you gently and shakes her head as she carries you. "Well, we shall leave them to that," she whispers, and you giggle again.

The room Asriel got for you both is high up, with a window to the courtyard. There's a package of your special textured sheets on the bed, and Mom tears it open so she can drape them around you. "There." She smiles brightly. "Much better. You have done so very well today, my child. Please, rest and enjoy yourself now."

You nod sleepily and tug the blankets tight around you. "Just think of how much more's gonna get done when you get a real ambassador," you murmur, before burying your face in the fabric.

Mom freezes, and only then do you realize what you just said to her. You're already curling into a ball when her claws reach you, and you throw off the sheets and flinch away. She stops, and settles beside you. "Frisk. Please, look at me."

When you can look up, she's smiling at you. Not sadly, not wryly, not any of those other words you half-know through Chara. "My dear child," she murmurs. "I am not angry. I have no desire to hurt you. I promise you that."

She reaches out, but it's the same way you always reached out to Chara, and when you inch away again, she nods. "Frisk, I want you to feel like you can tell me anything like what you just expressed," she said quietly. "I love you, dearly."

"I'm sorry." The words bubble out of you as naturally as they always do.

"Do not be sorry for the things you feel, Frisk," she whispers back to you. "I love every part of you just as it is."

Deep down, you don't think that's true. How could she possibly love the parts of you that make you so much harder to raise than a good child? She can't really mean that she loves the way you need so many things so exact, or panic and ruin your sleep if even one thing isn't just perfectly the right feeling. Your eyes glance down to the scars that cover the inside of both wrists and creep up your palms. How can she possibly love the parts of you that make you ruin all the care she shows you? Your parents had the right idea, they never loved that...

_Stop._ The word screams in your mind, and you jam one thumb between your molars. Not enough. The hardwood floor rushes up to meet your forehead. Then again. Again. You're sort of aware you're whining loudly, and more so every time you swing forward. Every thump makes a throb of pain right in the middle of your face, and you feel like your mind's being stirred.

And then, suddenly, you slam headfirst into something soft and bouncy instead of hard floor that makes your head make a cracking noise. You keep going, and going, until finally you just slump against the soft thing, crying. You're such a _baby_ still. Chara would...

Chara would be singing to you if they were still in your heart. Maybe trying to hug you. They'd remind you that _they're_ the big kid here, not you, and that those words were a lie to sound tough to Asriel anyway.

"Frisk. May I touch you, please?" Mom's voice is so, so soft. You can't speak, but you don't fight. You feel so tired. Her hand barely touches your back, and when you keep still, she begins to stroke you gently. "Are you feeling calmer now?"

You nod, just a little, and her hand becomes heavier against you, a warm, deep pressure against your tiny body. You know she's smiling. "I am glad. When you feel ready, please lie down on your back. I want to see if there is anything that needs healing."

Well, you could really just lie here like this until you actually fall asleep. But at this point that might take a while. And besides, you always make Chara let you bandage them up or take them to Dad after they're done. Even if this isn't the same.

You still spend probably at least five minutes just laying there.

When you're finally ready, you kiss her paw pad gently before you finally lean back and slump onto the blankets. The light makes you squint (more than usual that is) but you can see Mom lean and look over you. Her claws touch your head very carefully, and the shivery wonderful chill of her healing squashes the pain almost before you feel it. Then your whole forehead is warm, and you squeeze your eyes shut.

Her fingers are careful as they lift and cup your thumb. It aches and throbs, but you focus on the magic healing your forehead to block it out. Then your whole thumb is cold and everything else fades out. When you look, your thumb and palm are red, and it's dripped onto your sleeve and leg too. Now you've done it. You have a spare, sure, but what about when this happens again?

Mom presses her muzzle to your forehead and sighs gently. "There." Her eyes are like cinnamon, and they twinkle as they look down into yours. "I can handle laundering these. Would you like me to help you out of them?"

You would, honestly. You'd love to lie here and let yourself be pampered and maybe babied a little and helped into your sleep clothes. But if she does that, she'll see, and she'll be upset.

So you get up instead, all wobbly still. "I'll do it."

It's a little hard to get your hands properly clean, and you realize you should brush your teeth too, but the rest is simple even if you're a little out of breath afterwards. Mom's waiting when you come back out, and she scoots forward so she can drape the blanket around you and start winding it tight. "There. That is much better, is it not?" Her eyes crinkle as she smiles at you.

You can't do much besides give her a happy little coo. It feels so _good_ to be held like this and get out of your formal clothes. Your blazer's so clingy on your arms in all the wrong ways, like it wants to make sure you can't run away, and the layers under it just make things worse. And, well, you knew since you put them on this morning that you're not feeling up for pants this time, but you didn't say anything, so here you are with just pants when you really want a long soft skirt to play with and look cute in.

Which you guess is a bad part of getting wrapped. This is your special nightgown, after all; it's like a tradition that you get one every time your and Chara's birthday comes around, going way back to when you lived in the Ruins with Mom. Chara demanded they get to make it next year, but this one is Mom's knitting. It's soft and loose and swishy, and in your favorite kind of blue with a pink and a purple stripe, and there's a Delta Rune nestled on your chest in the perfect spot for your locket to sit on top of. If there's one thing you know, it's that you look _really cute_ in your nightgown, and you love that. But you can't be cute with your special nightgown covered by blankets.

Then Mom gently lifts you into her lap, blankets and all, and tucks it all into her arms. She's careful as she moves the blankets, and soon everything goes almost pitch dark. It starts getting hot very quickly, but you can feel her claws pressing along your back, and then you cool off as Mom's magic pulls the extra heat away.

You bury your face against her front and sigh happily. She's warm too, and it soaks through your tired muscles and heats you right down to your bones. Chara was bright and warm and filled your heart, but this is like sitting next to a fire. It's soft and low-key and fills your body instead of your senses. Right now, that's exactly what you need.

It's peaceful here. Mom doesn't speak - you know she won't unless you talk first - but you don't need her to do that right now. Your fingers close around your locket, and... yes. Now it's perfect. You can rest, and be happy. You can't have _nothing_ coming in, but... here, you only feel the things you choose.

You manage to stay like that for a long time before a familiar sound from your pocket makes you yelp and topple back. Mom shakes her head and smiles down as she helps get you untangled. She knows who the call's coming from too (you have personal tones for almost everyone you know), and she just smiles and slips out of the room with your dirty clothes. After kissing your forehead, of course.

"Hello?"

"Am I interrupting something? Usually you pick up before the first ring fades." Chara's voice teases you gently from the speaker.

"I was... calming down," you murmur back. "I got tangled in my blankets."

Chara laughs softly. "We're taking a break so that my father can decide which of 'the animes' he wants to watch with us, because naturally that is the result of him coming to pick up your old flame."

You can feel your cheeks burning. You know Chara isn't really jealous of him or anything, but they love teasing you sometimes about Shelta. "I had to retreat," you murmur. "Mettaton's here, but I can't do it after today."

Chara's voice is suddenly bright. "You neglected to tell me the star of the underground would be in attendance. Or was his arrival a surprise for you?" They pause to think. "Come to think of it, you mentioned Papyrus met you at the airport, right? Perhaps it is merely a matter of skeletal magnetism."

That one gets you to giggle. "Chara, c'mon, we don't _know_ they're dating..."

Chara laughs back. "In any case. How are you feeling?"

You think for a moment. "I did pretty good today. I already told you about Aurik. And I got to make the case for us being a nation. Aurik's dad even found me some people he thought I could persuade. They vote tomorrow about the tariffs, too, and it should go our way." Tariffs on magical goods, that is. Originally most countries put a whopping tax on them because with magic, monsters can make things easier and with less (or even no) materials. But even with magic, monsters can't make things as fast as machinery does. They can't compete the way the people who demanded tariffs claimed they can. And... you think you've gotten the people at the summit to understand that.

Even so. You sigh. "But I'm really tired. I must be, I said I wasn't a real ambassador again. Even after Aurik said a lot of nice things about me."

Chara sighs gently. "Then you likely are tired. Too tired to remember how to avoid listening to that part of you. Once again I find myself wishing I were there with you, but..."

You smile softly. "Chara, I can't ask you to face these people as yourself. It was bad enough watching. Now they'd know you were here."

Chara laughs weakly. "Thank you, Free. And please, stop thinking of yourself as less because you keep feeling like a fake ambassador. It isn't true, and we will never stop telling you so."

Before you can reply, Chara adds, "Nor will we ever think you a burden because you need us to remind you of that. Please believe that I understand very deeply what you are going through. But you have never been a burden, Frisk. Not even then."

You know what Chara means. They're wrong, but you don't care. "I'm sorry."

Chara sighs a little. "I am not due an apology for how you are, Free. That isn't what this relationship is about. You have helped me through far worse and never once believed I should apologize for it."

That reminds you. "Chara, um... Asriel told me about this afternoon."

Chara pauses. "You mean my visit to the flowers, I imagine."

You hastily cut in. "I'm not gonna say you can't. It... helps you, right?"

Chara takes a long breath. "Yes. I... cannot explain it myself. But looking at my own grave, and seeing flowers growing there... flowers that grow strong and healthy and without need of care..."

You manage a smile for a few seconds. "Flowers that remind you of you?"

Chara laughs weakly. "Perhaps. They are very like what you always tell me I am to you. But it is more that... in a sense, those flowers come from me. Do you remember, when Toriel told you my story? How she talked of the flowers that grew there, and how she liked to believe that my determination passed into them? I... would like to believe that as well."

They're quiet for a long while. "Why are you bringing this up, if you will not react as Asri did?"

You take a long breath. "Because... I'm scared. Chara... did you go because you're thinking about dying again?"

"Free..." A sudden click on the line makes you freeze. You don't take a breath again until the phone chimes in your hand and Chara's emblem fills the screen. With a long sigh, you set it in your lap and pick up the call.

Chara has their own phone set up a little ways away from them, but they nod and pick up their hands. ~I wanted to do this properly, Free.~

When Shelta started teaching you sign language, he asked you to make him a promise. Adults use their voices to lie all the time. Sign was going to be something special, between you and him and whoever else the two of you could trust. Shelta asked you to promise to never, ever sign a lie to him. You've kept that promise all this time, with him and with anyone else.

When Chara learned how to sign from Aster, he had it as a house rule. Signing was a way of expressing yourself, to him, and that made lying the same as being fake. It's one of the few rules you don't think Chara has ever broken.

The first time Chara brought up sign language, you discovered that you both had the same rule. So, of course, you made it a vow between yourselves as well. Chara being their own self instead of a projection only you could see hasn't changed that.

So, when Chara raises their hands and signs, ~I am not considering killing myself, Free,~ you're instantly relieved. Whatever else they might be feeling, they aren't suicidal.

~That's the only thing,~ you sign back. ~I was scared. I promised you, remember?~

~You did promise me,~ Chara replies, and they smile broadly. ~And I can promise you that I did not visit my grave because I was considering returning to it. I wanted to reflect. It was... helpful, I think.~ Their smile deepens. ~They are beautiful, are they not?~

~Is that why?~ you ask slowly.

Chara slumps a little. ~Perhaps. I have my own whispers, after all.~ They scratch their chin, and you hold yourself back from replying. ~Back then... I wanted so much to be useful. But I never was. Not even the flowers helped me be useful.~

You wave your hands, and Chara pauses. ~Chara, you know that's not true. Mom and Dad and Asriel all loved you. Being alive and happy...~

~Made me the hope of humans and monsters.~ Chara looks so... weary. You kind of hate that phrase too. ~That could never be enough for me. How could it? I would have had to accept the idea that my mere existence could be a benefit. That is something that I find even harder than you find accepting that you are a true ambassador.~

You try to force a smile. ~Aurik said I was one too. Because I made friends. I helped them.~

Chara's forehead gets a little smoother. ~You did. You absolutely possess the skills an ambassador needs.~

You sigh. ~But... you didn't just exist either. Right?~ You reach up and tug at your headscarf.

Chara chuckles. ~I know, Frisk. But I could not see it that way. Yes, that was a way to be useful, but... it was not enough. And just when it began to be enough, well...~

You know what happened, but neither of you _should_ say it. ~Everything changed when the Fire Nation attacked?~

Chara stares at you for a long moment. Then their face crumples into an enormous toothy grin and they slump over and start howling with laughter. "Frisk, _no_ ," they gasp out.

"Frisk yes," you say as placidly as you can manage. Even if you're struggling not to laugh just as hard as Chara is. Your mission complete, you then give in and bury your face in the blankets.

Chara's still beaming when you calm down and look back up. "I needed that." They shake their head, and flick their hands into position again. ~But yes. Even if I was beginning to believe I was useful, or that just by existing I could help them, my 'Ozai' in my eyes was 'proof' of just the opposite. I was not hope, but a curse.~

They're quiet for a while, enough that you can hear their breathing, slow and deep. ~The closest caretaker to 'kind' that I had before I met Asri was an old woman who treated our situation more like mutual care than a parent and child. I was fed and clothed, in exchange for carrying out the care an elder needs. She didn't call me 'they', and she gave me no protection from cruel words, but she called me 'Chara' and she yelled at the kids who wanted to hurt me and the worst she ever did was be crabby if I messed up her care...~ They sigh. ~In the grand scheme of things, she was all right.~

You have a very strong feeling that she was not "all right" at all. ~Why are you telling me this?~ you sign instead. ~You hate talking about that village.~

Chara gives another long sigh. ~Less than a month after I started living there, she had a stroke. She never woke up again.~ Their hands are shaking, and you reach out, but they flick their hand quickly. ~The others blamed me, of course. But before they even had a chance, I had already blamed myself. I told myself that my presence had cursed her. That I brought misfortune. She was... the last family I stayed with.~

~Don't call them that.~ You can't stop yourself. ~They weren't.~

Chara nods slowly. ~True enough. I never really had a family until I met Asri, is not that what you mean?~ They shake their head. ~But the fact remains that after her death, I stopped trying. I spent the remainder of my time in that village homeless. Even after I fell, well.~ A soft laugh sneaks out. ~Asri had to convince me to stay. They were all such good people, Frisk. I thought they, above all, did not deserve to fall prey to the curse I carried with me.~

~You aren't a curse, Chara.~ You shiver. ~But... what happened... you thought that proved it.~

~I did.~ Chara stares down at the shingles under them. ~How could I not? You have seen through my eyes what I did to Asgore. To my own and only father.~

You wave for their attention, and when Chara looks, you sign slowly. ~I love you, Chara.~

Chara gives you a smile in return; it's weak, but it's a real one. ~I know. Sorry, Free. Maybe we should talk about something else.~

Your eyes dart away from Chara for a moment and focus above their head; you realize all of a sudden that it's very dark, wherever they are. Chara reaches out to tilt the phone back a little, and you see a white crescent glowing over their head. ~Chara... how come you're outside?~

Chara shakes their head lightly. ~Old habits.~ They lean in close to the camera, and their eyes lock onto your chest. ~Speaking of which.~ They point to you and smile. ~They weren't giving you shit over that today, right?~

You look down. Your fingers have wrapped around your locket again, and you hadn't even realized. They must have been shooting back to play with it every time you stopped signing. And honestly, now that you're aware, you don't exactly want to stop that. "No," you murmur. "They went after the headscarf, but the chair said I could keep that too."

Chara smiles just a little. ~You wore it to the conference? You always know just how to show me praise, Free.~ They pause, and suddenly their eyes sharpen. ~You've been wearing that since then too, haven't you?~

~How can you tell?~ You can feel your hands trembling, but there's no lying.

Chara shakes their head. ~I have been with you a long time, Frisk. I know how your breathing changes when you wear it. Please... the conference is over. This is a safe place. Take it off.~

Your fingers find the strap. "But..."

Chara shakes their head quickly. ~Frisk, please take it off. You are terribly short of breath, and I'm worried you will hurt yourself.~

Well... but you do hurt yourself, sometimes. "Chara, I don't..." They start to sign, but then they jam their hands in their lap. "I... feel weird... with it off. I know it's silly..."

Chara shakes their head. "It's not silly, Free. I have no desire to imply anything of the sort. What you feel is not wrong or silly or false." They lean closer. "I ask this only because of the harm it could bring. You and I both know what wearing it in an unsafe way can do to your body."

"What if..." Chara waits, even when you're quiet. "What if I... want to be hurt?"

Chara leans close. "If you want to hurt yourself, go ahead. I'll be here to support you. But leaving it on will hurt you in a way that cannot be easily undone. So please, Frisk. I'm asking you, because only you and I are here, to take it off. And if having it off upsets you, I will help you however you need to be helped." They're shivering now. "Please, Frisk."

They're right, and you know it, you're just being weird, it's not like you have much to bind anyway, and-

Chara shakes their head. "Frisk. It's just a thought."

They're right. You slip out of the blankets. "I'll be right back."

You hold up your binder when you come back, and Chara sighs. "Thank you, Free," they murmur. "How are you feeling?"

Less bad than you thought you would, really. "Not too bad."

Chara signs the next question. ~And your chest? Does it hurt?~

No lying. ~Just a little.~ You're already breathing easier though.

Chara nods. "All right. Please tell me or Toriel if it starts to hurt more." They smile. "Is there anything you need me to do?"

~Just talk, I think. I just want to wind down.~ You settle into place again.

Chara smiles a little. ~All right. Whatever you'd like to talk about.~

You think. But, well... ~Actually, I haven't done much besides the summit.~

Chara nods, and frowns in sympathy. ~The star is a little too bright for you this evening, eh?~

A glum nod. ~I had to come up here pretty much right away.~

Chara smiles. ~It happens. I'm certain that Mettaton understands.~

~Yeah. He said to go ahead and rest, and come down if I feel better.~ You kinda feel like you're not going to, though. It's so... peaceful here. Especially with Chara.

~And we both know he will not be offended if you do not come down tonight.~ They pause, and sigh softly, and sign at you. ~Frisk, you're yawning. If you need to rest, rest.~

You don't think you yawned, and you don't want to rest, so instead you flop chin-first on a pillow and pout at them. "Tell me a story, Chara?" You hold up your locket.

(You still remember the exact feeling of Chara's fingers brushing past your neck and playing in your hair. Your eyes were closed, but you could feel the chain drape around you and their hands carefully fix the clasp. It was lighter, and it didn't hang on your neck the same way theirs had, but you didn't care, because you knew before you even opened your eyes what Chara's surprise was.)

Chara lays down on the shingles and shakes their head. "Oh, you." Their eyes sparkle even though their voice is perfect deadpan. "Well. It had been a year to the day that I managed to fail spectacularly to kill myself, and the day when Asri saved my life. I was lying, awake, and trying to coax my perpetually alert brain to stand down and let me sleep, when I realized that Asriel was not holding me."

You know that's odd. Asriel is... well, _clingy_ when it comes to Chara. They continue. "I could hear him breathing beside me, however. When I opened my eyes, he was leaning over me, and rocking back and forth on his paws. 'Chara', he whispered, 'are you up? I wanna start today.'" They shake their head. "I had no idea myself of the day, to be honest. But Asriel is meticulous - and by that I mean a colossal dork with a dated handwritten journal - and my father is even more sentimental than he."

Their smile is so fond. You've seen a lot of their memories, but they'll never affect you as much as they affect Chara. "At about that time, I glanced down and found he had put on his sweater over his mesh, and saw a golden chain emerging from the collar."

"Chara," you murmur, "Why did you corrupt Asriel into a glam rocker?"

Chara actually smothers their laughter in their hands. "My eyes followed that chain," they continue, "until I found myself looking at a golden heart dangling inches away. I think Asri was trying to speak to me, but I was so focused on what he was wearing that I do not think I heard him."

"And then..." They hum for a moment. "Then I reached up to touch it. Asri looked down with an adorable expression of shock on his face at seeing my fingers cupping the golden locket he was wearing. Almost at once, he began to babble about how I was not supposed to see that yet, and that he had messed up. Which gave me time to touch the latch and let it open."

"What was in it?" you murmur.

Chara rolls over and stares up at the sky. "On one side was the family picture you've seen so many times. The one where I was too embarrassed to show my smile, so I hid myself in flowers instead. In the other picture, myself and Asri a while after my formal introduction. He was still in his regal costume, of course, even that cape with the absurd shoulders. I... well, Asri had taken me to meet monsters down in the city. I was still so on-edge from meeting so many that I was hiding behind him like I always used to. You could only really see my face, and the flower wreath Toriel had put on my head. But, tired as I was, the exertion was done, and I was home. I would not need to tell you I was smiling too, as I had to for the other photograph."

You know Chara has the same family photo in their own locket. Since they came back to life, though, they've covered it up with a new picture: the two of you, them resting their arms and chin on your head and letting their locket dangle in your face, and you bundled up in their old scarf and the first sweater they knitted for you. The other picture is the same one of Asriel snoozing in their lap as always.

"And then..." Chara's voice makes you focus again. "Still panicking, he suddenly pulled something out of his pocket and pressed it into my hands, and stammered out a 'Happy birthday, Chara'. I confess, I was perplexed. I could understand each word, but strung together they became incomprehensible for a solid few minutes. It took Toriel, who had been watching with barely restrained mirth, gently explaining their decision and the significance of the day, before I could even understand, let alone accept."

"Like me," you murmur.

Chara nods. "Yes. But Boss Monsters have determination of their own. And back then, mine was near spent. And so I found my life being celebrated. The fact that I had been alive for another year was treated as a splendid occasion. I was held up as so worthwhile that people would want, of their own free will, to give me gifts and treasure me."

They stop so they can rub at their eyes, and you wiggle a little closer. "Big kids do cry, Chara," you whisper, and then, "I love them too."

Chara laughs even as they sniffle and bury their face even deeper. "I had not properly examined that first gift, however. When I realized what it was for, I stowed it until a more proper time. Asri urged me time and time again through the day to put it on, but... I waited. Until all the others had departed, when it was only myself and my... family. Then I took it out and looked. A heart to match Asri's golden one, in a beautiful metal that shone like the most perfect mirror." They bite their lip. "Platinum, he told me. A metal as beautiful as silver yet valued even more than gold. And of course I needn't say what was etched into the surface."

_Best friends forever._ It's on yours too. Chara peeks up and smiles. "I also needn't say that tears were shed. A lot of them. Platinum, can you imagine? In his own silly, dorky way, Asri was saying that he valued me even more than himself. He called me pure when I had thought myself corrupt. Around my neck, he placed a heart made of starlight, and promised me eternity."

They close their eyes, but they smile even more. "And then, many, many years later, I met a child who despite everything wrong with me professed to love me, and whom I despite everything wrong with me love in return. That child restored me to life and my locket to its place around my neck, and so I sought out to bestow a gift of my own to them."

You click open your locket and let it sit on the pillow. The left is you on Asriel's shoulders, smiling as big as you can. (It's from right after he came back, when he had no horns and just a little bit of wispy grey mane.) On the right, Chara's sitting cross-legged just behind you. You're laying back, tired from reading, head snugged between their bare feet, and one hand had come off their knitting to play with your hair. Your book is still open in your lap; the picture doesn't show, but you remember it was about echinoderms.

(You have a third picture too. You, sitting in Dad's garden, a big clay pot and a single grumpy flower snuggled in your lap. He's trying hard not to smile, but he's bad at that. Your smile is your own, and your eyes are perfect red.)

"I had once promised them a locket of their own," Chara says, "for they had been hesitant to bear mine even as a gift. But I had to decide. Platinum like my own, or golden like Asri's, would never do. They would feel guilt over the expense, and deny that they were worth something." They pause, and open their eyes. "Even if I think you to be worth the world, Free."

You weren't wearing rouge today, but it probably looks like you did now. "Well... you're right."

Chara smirks. "I considered silver, but silver is part of the hierarchy of precious metals, and below either gold or platinum. And you are most certainly not inferior. Besides, I had an inkling that you might feel guilt even over silver. Still, I wanted something with the same coloration as mine. Even if personally I still think a rose-gold locket would look absolutely stunning on you."

You close the locket again, and turn it so the room lights shine off of it. It's a lot more grey; Chara's looks almost pure white. "And that's why..."

Chara nods. "You are, I came to realize, very much an alloy. You change and grow from every experience you have - look at how you defeated Toriel - and you do your best to learn from and bond with everyone you meet." They wink. "Even if some bonds go far deeper than others. However, you are also always yourself. You defeated Toriel by being Frisk, not by simple amalgamation of the children who came before you. Pewter is not like any of the metals that make it up. It's sturdy, and pure in its own way, and it shines a silver all its own. It resists corrosion - pewter is pewter, no matter what reactions try to change it. And age and weathering only make pewter more beautiful, to me. Just like you, Free."

You need to bury your face in your pillow. Chara is _good_ at this game. "Chara!" you manage to squeak.

Chara laughs softly. "I mean it. That's why I chose pewter for your locket."

It's quiet for a few minutes. There's a soft knock at the door, though, and at first you're not sure what to say. Chara sighs gently. "Free. It's okay to ask them if they are willing to wait. Willing and able, I should say. Think of it as doing so on my behalf, if it feels selfish."

You're about to ask who's there first, because maybe it's someone who really can't wait, but a soft voice speaks up before you do. "um... sounds like you're on a phone call... i'm sorry... i'll try again next break... unless you're going to go to sleep first..."

Chara's smile brightens, and you shake your head. "It's okay! Come in!"

There's no reply for a while, but then a pair of eyes peeks through the door. You turn the phone so Chara can see and wave too. "Blook, come in. I would be happy to talk with you for a time."

The ghost floats carefully through the door, and you immediately scamper over to hug them. Hugging Napstablook is always kind of weird, but then again so was hugging Chara before. You've had plenty of time to learn how to do this right.

They turn a very nice pale shade of pink when you do. "gosh..." Their eyes dart over to the phone, and they make a soft little nod. "and... hi, chara. how're you?"

Chara shakes their head. "As dandy as I can ever claim. How is the touring life treating you?"

Napstablook gives you both a shy little smile. "i'm still pretty nervous. i'm not... used to being around so many people..."

"You handle it far better than I can." Chara's smiling, but you know.

"gosh..." Napstablook bobs a little in front of you. "well... thank you..."

"And you're really good!" you point out. "You make the shows even better."

Napstablook doesn't say anything back, but they do make you wonder how a ghost can have dimples. Their smile slowly fades, though. "oh... i'm sorry... i came to see you, but... now i'm not saying anything... i even interrupted your phone call..."

They start to fade, but Chara speaks up. "You do not have to speak. Visiting does not always require conversation. You wanted to spend time with Frisk, and with me, and we are both happy to."

You turn over and sprawl out on your back. On the phone, you can see Chara do it too. "For old time's sake?"

"... i don't want to worry you two..."

"You are not worrying us." Chara's voice is warm. "Were you not the one who told us it is unwise to hide it, if there are things we feel poorly about?"

"I wound up calling myself fake again," you chime in.

Napstablook drifts down and lays on the floor between you. "well... okay..."

Their humming is soft and eerie, but you like it. You let everything besides the three of you feel unreal, and let yourself think about all the ways you feel like garbage. It's peaceful.

Then there's a loud knock at the door, and right after that the door opens. "Oh!" When you look, Mettaton's there with a hand to his mouth. "Terribly sorry to interrupt, darlings." He shakes his head. "But I'm afraid I do need my cousin on stage. I can't do this next number without them."

You hug Napstablook as quick as you can, and they do smile, but they fade out right after. Mettaton winces. "I'm sorry, darlings," he says again.

Chara shrugs. "If you need them, you need them." Their voice is dry.

Mettaton shakes his head. "Well, nothing I can do about it now. Let me know next time, and I'll join in. It is a family tradition, after all!"

He goes to sweep out, and then he peeks back in. "Toriel's asked me to tell you, by the way. If you feel up for it, she'd be happy to have you join us. But only if you do, dear."

When he's gone, Chara sighs. "I think I'd like to take some time to myself before the others text me to say they want to resume."

You nod. "I already got a story."

Chara laughs. "Are you going to go down?"

"I... don't know," you admit.

Chara nods. "Staying in your room and sleeping is fine too, Free. Nobody will think less of you for needing to relax or to keep your stimuli simple and quiet."

"I know." You reach out to touch the screen. "Hey... can you see you and Cor Caroli tonight?"

"Possibly." Chara shakes their head. "But only after I close the call. The light is enough to keep my eyes from adjusting. I am, after all, a very dim star."

You give them your best I-love-you pout. "Not true. You're great."

Chara rolls their eyes. "In my own way, perhaps. But only for the lucky few who can see me." They lean in. "Like you. I love you, Free. Rest easy."

You nod. "Night, Chara. I love you."

The call clicks off, and you curl into the blankets, still picturing your best friend in your mind.

(After a while, you do go back down again. Not because you're forcing yourself. Mettaton _adores_ you and he'd happily do a second big night, or a quiet small show if that would make you happier. And you know that your friends don't really _need_ you to be there to enjoy something.)

(You think, and fix that thought. You sitting alone in your room won't keep the others from enjoying what they're doing downstairs.)

(Honestly, you only get through a few songs. It really has been a long day, and soon you have to lean on a pillar because you're wobbling on your feet. But they're good songs, and when you wake up you find yourself in Asriel's arms and tucked against his soft front, so you snuggle in and just let him carry you up to bed. You'll be asleep again right away once you get there, so you take the chance to cuddle close and enjoy being so close to the boy you want to be your partner.)

(Tomorrow is another day.)

 


	10. Verse 3 - Shelta ~ What The Unfallen Child Saw

You're sleepy. It's late. It's late, and you're tired, but you honestly have zero desire to remind your adoptive father of the reason he drove here over two hours ago. You're really glad that you came.

Everyone here besides you and Chara is a monster. It's kind of different being around so many of them at once, but you'll be around lots of them when summer's over, so it's a good chance to get used to a new setting. Sure, there are some humans attending now, but most of Toriel's students are monster children. And you're a grade above Frisk, so you won't see them too much probably.

There's a lot of different kinds, too. There's MK of course, who's got a ton of energy but fell asleep halfway through the first block with his head on Chara's leg. He got picked up on the break. There's Gerson, an old, old turtle who talked back and forth with you with slow, half-remembered signs until he promptly went to the corner to doze off. There's a few dogs too, which made Chara almost shout with joy, including a huge white dog with a hole for a face and spaces between its six legs that purred when Chara invited you to pet there. They spent a while snuggled up against xem (Chara told you the right pronouns, and that xer name was Endogeny) and petting a much smaller fluffy dog who marched into the room in a suit of armor way too big for him to be able to wear and move around in (Greater Dog, Chara said).

The dogs left a while ago too. Most of the monsters are; it's really just Alphys, Undyne, and Sans, plus Gerson snoozing in the corner (except when he wakes up to suddenly say something and then fall back to sleep). You were supposed to be gone yourself a while ago, but, well.

Honestly, you weren't too surprised when Asgore coming to pick you up turned into Asgore joining anime night. Sure, it meant changing over from the more heavy stuff you were watching to something that wouldn't remind him of long ago, but honestly a tone shift was probably a good idea anyway. Undyne's fins don't usually tuck against her cheeks that tightly.

Still, it's late, and as the episode credits roll Alphys jumps up and starts talking excitedly. Chara waves a hand in your peripheral vision, and you turn to see them signing. ~Alphys says that's probably a good place to stop this particular anime for the night.~

You don't know this series, really, so you have no idea where a good break point is. ~What next?~ you sign back.

Chara glances over, and frowns. ~Something besides anime. Excuse me, please.~ They rather pointedly slip over the back of the couch and keep low to the ground as they scoot back to the kitchen.

You follow, once the monsters are all discussing _something_ too excitedly to realize that nobody's interpreting for you right now. Chara is sitting on the bottom step, their longer sleeve drawn up. You manage to keep from looking at it, but you do see that they're dragging a finger along their forearm in a quiet rhythm. It reminds you a little of Frisk stroking your hair, or running their fingers along fish scales, or burrowing into a hamper of clothes that Toriel just finished drying.

You tap your foot, and when Chara's head jerks up, you quickly sign, ~I didn't look.~

Chara slides their sleeve down. ~Thank you,~ they sign back quietly. ~I am not certain that I am ready to share that with you.~

~It's only my business if you say you'll let it be,~ you agree. ~Are you all right? Sleepy too?~

Chara laughs just a little at that. ~I anticipate being awake far longer than this.~ Their grin is sour. ~No, I came out here to avoid the inevitable. You see, they are discussing karaoke. It strikes me as rather tactless, frankly.~

You understand why Chara would call it that, but you don't mind. You can't sing yourself, and couldn't even before you lost your hearing, but so what? You can still enjoy music in your own way. ~I have wireless headphones. I don't mind.~

Besides, watching everyone's expressions is probably going to be priceless.

Chara tilts their head. ~Was that ableist of me?~ They look... really worried.

~I'm not mad about it,~ you sign back. You try to draw closer at first, but Chara flinches back, and you end up jumping back a little in a hurry to give them space. ~You're right that I can't sing with them. The way I'd enjoy it is totally different.~

~That is not an excuse.~ Chara is tense. Really tense.

You sit down. ~If you apologize, I'll accept it,~ you offer.

Chara stares at you for a long moment. ~Was I seriously so caught up in chastising myself that I failed to say that?~ They shake their head, and let out a long breath. ~I am sorry, Shelta.~

You smile back. ~It's okay. I'm happy that you would get upset on my behalf. Besides, you had other reasons to come out here, right?~

~Ah. The 'inevitable'.~ Chara stares at the ceiling for a long moment. ~Everyone is supposed to participate in karaoke. That would mean that I would be called on to sing. Alphys knows that I object very strongly to that, and yet she still suggests this time and again, and every time at least one person seems to forget.~

They're right, but... ~Why do you object? Nobody would seriously laugh at you.~

~I do not expect them to laugh, Shelta.~ Chara tucks one foot over their knee. ~This has nothing to do with ridicule, or even praise. Singing is something very special, almost intimate, to me. I do not wish to do it on demand, or for a group. Barring Asri and Free, there are very, very few who I have allowed to hear me sing.~

They pause. ~I suppose that leaves me with one fewer mark of trust I can show in you.~

Chara talks about things like that sometimes. ~I can know you trust me in a lot of other ways.~

~I know.~ Chara smiles slightly. ~I know you can see it. You can see the tension in my limbs, the apprehension in my movements, the distrust writ large upon my brow. Frisk has told me quite a lot about you, remember.~

~I can also see that you want to trust me,~ you counter. ~Some of that tension is from making yourself not react. You keep telling yourself that I'm not a danger.~

Chara watches you. ~But you are not a danger. Should that not be obvious to me? Should I have no need to tell myself, again and again, that you are not a threat? And yet, I do.~

You know why. Nobody told you about it, not even Frisk, but you've seen people tense up in the same way Chara did this afternoon. Some of the other kids looked that way when the police would stop your group and demand to know where you were going and why - older kids, old enough to have seen things your fair skin protected you from. And near the end, sometimes you saw Frisk go wide-eyed and watchful when those two got upset. You know what Frisk was watching for then, and you know what Chara is always watching for now. But... it'd be an awful idea to say it. You can't remind Chara of what was done to them.

Instead, you sigh. ~It's because of the same reason you climbed the mountain, isn't it?~

Chara seems satisfied. ~In as much as that was a source of my desire to end my life, yes.~ They sigh back at you. ~Shelta, do you know why I will not be attending school with you and Frisk in a few weeks? Why I would surrender the chance to be taught by someone as lovely as Toriel?~

It's obvious. ~Too many humans. Too many people to watch.~

Chara nods. ~I hate them, Shelta.~

~ _All of them?!_ ~ You can't do the voice, obviously, but you scrunch your face the way you remember it looking and make huge, exaggerated signs, and Chara snickers into their hands, so you think they got it.

~All of them,~ Chara replies when they settle down. ~A single human, alone, is one thing, especially if Free or the monsters are there to support me. The human being someone like you, who I know through Free is a kind and loving person, makes it easier as well, and yet you have seen how I am around you. But I hate humans all the same, Shelta, and I cannot be around them.~

~Can you make an exception for yourself?~

Chara looks startled by that. Then they laugh softly and shake their head. ~I have already expended my exception on Frisk. As someone who they care for deeply and who I have seen is someone worthy of trust, you have already had the second earmarked for you, should I ever be capable of two.~ They smile - a tight little gash, but it softens after a long moment. ~But I do appreciate the sentiment. Truly.~

There's something you've been wondering about for a while. Now seems like a reasonable time to bring it up. ~You keep saying you know what I'm like, and that you know you can trust me. But how? You've only known me since Frisk found me.~

~Not true.~ Their smile is no longer tense and thin. ~I have known you since Frisk told me their story, the night before we set out from Toriel's home to face my father.~ They raise a finger as you get ready to reply. ~Not only in story, Shelta. I have seen Frisk's memories of your time together. They have allowed me to see you through their eyes. You saw their neglect and isolation and you moved to fill that space. You did your utmost to assure Frisk that the way they were was not wrong.~ Their hands hesitate. ~Did... Frisk ever tell you they came to question whether they were even Roma?~

~They never said it to me,~ you reply. ~But I had a feeling they worried about that. Sometimes their hands would twitch when they signed 'Roma'. But maybe it just didn't get bad enough that they wanted to talk to someone about it before I, well, left the caravan.~

Chara stares at the ground for a long moment. ~Most likely. What they said was proof of their worries only came the day before they climbed Mount Ebott.~ They sigh. ~I apologize for making you remember that.~

~I guess it helps me understand you a little better, though.~ You try to make yourself smile. Maybe Chara isn't as good as you at spotting fake ones. ~I've never been comfortable around police since then, after all.~

Chara nods. ~I think we would both benefit from breaking off this topic.~ They shake their head. ~But yes. I know you are a good person, Shelta. I want to trust you. Moreover, I want to prove to myself that I trust you. To be able to sing to you would be... well, even my exceptional self-loathing would find it hard to argue against such evidence.~

You nod. ~But maybe you don't need to drain yourself with a huge dramatic proof. Just look for the simple things. Things you'd never do if you didn't trust me. Like this afternoon.~

They go tense again, and a thin, tight smirk creases their lips. ~You mean when I drew a weapon on you for touching my shoulder?~

~You didn't.~ You shift a little closer, and they watch you carefully. ~You never actually drew your knife. You hesitated and waited to see if there was a threat. That's progress.~

Chara stares at you for a long moment. Finally, they shake their head. ~Shelta, you realize you are, effectively, saying that you are proud of me for not pulling out a knife, do you not?~ Their smile is fleeting this time. ~Still, there is merit in your suggestion. I will... try to consider it. Even if I doubt my head will cooperate.~

There. They're so much less tense now. Keep it up. ~So I hear you got pretty cozy with Frisk this morning.~

Chara blinks, but then a huge, sharp grin spreads across their face. ~I suppose I did. Jealous?~

You actually snort a little at that one. ~No. Frisk is my friend. I'm happy they have someone to love so strongly.~

Chara smiles. ~Ah. Compersion.~ They have to finger-spell that word, and you resolve to look it up later. ~I wish Asri had your outlook, sometimes.~

~I'm happy for you, too.~ You scoot just a little closer, and Chara doesn't tense up this time. ~You probably don't have a lot of even monsters that you trust that much.~

Chara nods. Their eyes are a little wet. ~I love them, dearly. But you knew that.~

The footfalls you feel then are heavy, but soft and muffled. You know even before you turn, but you still turn so you can smile up at your foster father. He nods, and glances to Chara. "Is everything all right?"

Chara nods, but they sign back instead of doing both. ~I felt certain I would be pressured to participate. I do not wish to sing.~

Asgore's muzzle sags. "Ah. I had... not considered that."

Chara glances to the side. ~I know it has been a very long time. However... now is not the time.~

Asgore shuffles his feet a little; you can feel it when one of his claws scrapes across the floor. "I am sure everyone would love to hear your voice. You sing so well."

Chara's hands snap through the air. ~It is not fear of rejection. I know you have forgotten much, but I thought you at least would remember who I sing for, and what it means for me to do so.~

Asgore wilts, and he stares at the ground. "I'm sorry," he murmurs, and he gives a heavy sigh that makes Chara's hair messy.

Chara stands, and they extend their arms up. Asgore kneels and winds his arms around them. You glance away to avoid reading their lips, but you have a pretty good guess what Chara tells him.

A light thump on the ground a little bit after that gives you permission to turn back around. Asgore is seated, one paw in Chara's lap, and they almost look dutiful as they play with his pads. ~What about you, Shelta?~ he asks. ~We were loud enough to wake up MK, and he was worried you'd be bored.~

~I'm fine,~ you sign back. ~Headphones let me feel the music, and I can still watch everyone trying to sing, and their expressions.~

Asgore nods. ~I'm sorry, though. Golly, you'd think a dad would think of things like that...~

He starts slightly and turns to look at Chara, whose fingers are wrapped around one huge toe. They meet your eyes and nod slightly before they begin talking, and you take that for permission to speechread. "You are _such_ a dad, Asgore," is your best guess of what they murmur. "And everyone loves you for it. Even though Frisk may have succeeded, I think you should stay this way."

Asgore looks adorable when he's bashful. He's especially bashful after all that. "Gosh, you're just saying that... I mean, I didn't..."

Chara squeezes his toe again, and he stops. "Asgore, if you start to criticize your performance as my father, I will have to be upset with you. You are the only person I have ever known who I could call that. You know if I have ever refused to, it was because I believed I could never deserve someone like you as my father." They glance at you. "Thankfully, the latest additions to your family will never have to worry about that."

Asgore sighs. "Even with the blood on my hands? Even with my failures?"

"You never once failed me. _I_ failed myself, and you, and everyone else." Chara reaches up to touch the bright gold fur of his mane. "You never did those things as a father. Only ever as a king who had given up. Those are sins enough already without comparing yourself to the human who I was born from."

~For what it's worth,~ you sign, and both of them turn to look, ~I trust you despite those things. You told me when you adopted me about what you'd done. More or less.~

Asgore's eyes go even more huge and liquid than usual. ~Thank you, Shelta. But, how can you trust a...~

You flick your hands, and his own fall into his lap before he can sign the word. ~Because you never wanted for a second to do it. And now there's nothing to make you feel as if you have to anyway. Besides... it's so obvious how much it hurts you.~

Asgore nods slowly. ~Anyhow... Chara, would you like me to remind them about you?~

Chara shakes their head. “I am willing to excuse myself if it means allowing everyone else to enjoy some karaoke together.”

~What will you do instead? Do you want company?~

Chara blinks at you, and smiles very slightly. “No, I would prefer you enjoy yourself with the others. You have been very good company, but you do not need to remain with me the entire time until you depart.”

Asgore frowns deeply, and his toes twitch under Chara's fingers. "I don't want you feeling left out, Chara..."

Chara smiles softly. “I have the rest of the evening after karaoke concludes. Besides, there are many things I can do on my own.” They pause. “Come to think of it... yes, this would be a good time for that. Even among monsters, I have my limit for constant company and interaction.”

Asgore nods. “If something happens, call me right away. I'm not even close to as good as your mother, but...”

Chara flinches the same way you've seen them flinch away from your touch. “I... yes. Of course. But you need not worry. This may not be the body I had when I first met you all, but they used my memories to make it. And we are both very aware that I am... rather resistant to falling damage.”

They laugh for a second or two, but it looks more like a cough. Asgore frowns, but you raise your hands. ~Sorry, what's going on? Why does Chara need to be careful?~

Chara blinks. “Ah.” They let go of Asgore's paw finally and lift their own hands. ~I intend to go stargaze for a while. And, or so I personally find, the best place for that is from the roof.~

Well, it's unsurprising that Chara likes stargazing. And it makes sense on a logical level. But, well, the obvious question is obvious. ~How are you getting up there? Is there a stairway?~ There's one at Toriel's house, a beautiful spiral stair leading to a trap door, though you've never been up there yourself. It's a special place, at least in your eyes, to them. Past the trapdoor is a wide cupola with low rails, commanding a gorgeous view over the trees. There's no top, leaving the sky open in all directions. (When it rains, though, Frisk likes to put a special tarp over the whole thing and curl up under it to listen.)

Chara smirks, just a little. ~No, I only use the ambassador's walk when Frisk is there too. But I have slept on roofs far steeper than this one in the past – routinely, at one time.~

~You're going to climb?~ No wonder Asgore was saying to call him.

Chara's smirk deepens. ~You do not need to worry. I have long experience scaling walls and keeping my balance.~ They pause, and snicker. ~I would be tempted to call it muscle memory, but of course these are hardly the same muscles. Still. Please, do not be worried. I will be perfectly safe. I actually climbed up earlier to call Frisk, just after my father joined us.~

You watch them for a long moment. No... they're confident. Not careless. They know what they're doing. ~Is it really that nice up there?~

Chara stands, and stretches their arms up as far as they can. “It is,” they mouth carefully. “For me, at least. Considering the circumstances under which I slept on rooftops, I should not, yet I find a strange sort of nostalgia in doing so.”

~Like where you went today?~

You keep your question vague, and Chara blinks for a long moment before they realize. Then they nod slowly. ~That is a very different reason. But I see the connection you are drawing.~ They glance upward. ~Do you ever visit? You used to tend so carefully to the other golden flowers.~

Asgore lowers his head for a long moment. You can barely catch the words he mumbles. “I wouldn't really call that tending a garden, Chara. Besides... I told myself for a long time I had no right to visit you. Tori made that very clear from what she did. It's hard to think otherwise even now.”

Chara curls their hand into the hollow of his much larger palm, and he starts, and then smiles. ~Besides,~ he signs. ~I have you in my life again. That's what makes me happy.~

Chara nods slowly, and glances at you. ~You'll promise to alert me when it becomes safe to return without eager, well-meaning monsters trying to make me sing?~

You glance at Asgore for a long moment. ~Well... after karaoke we should probably go home. So... look down when you hear the car start, and I'll wave goodbye?~

Chara nods, and starts up the stairs. “Using your window, Alphys,” they call over their shoulder, and then sign to you, ~It is very easy to get to the roof from there. For someone used to climbing from the ground, it is a simple ascent.~

Alphys scoots out a minute or two later, looking flustered. She throws a quick glance at Asgore, and he translates for you. “Binoculars are on the teak bookshelf, third row up! I, um, sorry it's so messy, I didn't think about you going through!” She turns to you, and clutches her hands together. Asgore shakes his head and keeps it up. “Shelta, I-I'm so s-sorry! Do you, um, want us to do something else?”

You shake your head, and sign carefully. Asgore's voice makes the stairs rumble softly. ~It's fine. I just need your help getting my headphones connected. I can't sing, but I can still enjoy the rest of you doing it.~

Alphys' hands fall to her sides. “Oh! Sure, let me see and I'll just go figure out...” She takes them from you so eagerly you have to stop yourself from calling it “snatching”, and scampers back into the room with the others. Asgore shakes his head, smiles, and a moment later you're being carried back to see the others.

Once you've gotten your headphones back from Alphys, karaoke can begin in earnest. It's really great just watching everyone - Asgore so urgently serious, Alphys shy and fearless at the same time, Undyne singing so passionately you're half convinced she's trying to make the speakers catch on fire... You wonder, a little, what Chara looks like when they sing. Maybe that can be a proof, when they genuinely feel they trust you that much.

Still, it's late, and almost everyone was asleep. (Sans looks like he still is, somehow; he certainly didn't do any singing himself.) So karaoke doesn't last too long. Asgore looks apologetic when he scoops you up, but Undyne just signs a casual ~Come earlier next time!~ and he relaxes as he carries you out.

Of course, regular human cars can hardly handle what you're convinced is at least ten feet of goatlike monster king. Asgore instead drives something Alphys modified from what you think was once an old Volkswagen. The driver's seat is centered and set far back, with the pedals spread apart, one to each foot. Everything's been made larger to fit properly in his hands, of course. The seats in the back all face inwards to maximize legroom, though you can turn them around to look out the window too.

The real difference, though, is the roof. There really isn't one. Even with the other modifications, Asgore's head pokes right on through. The windshield's been extended up and around the sides of the driver's seat, but usually it's nice and windy inside the car. Except when it rains, but there's a cloth top for that.

Asgore settles himself in, looking as dignified as possible, and starts the car. You cast your gaze up to the roof, but it's just too dark. You can't see.

Then you see a reddish light, and while it's still pretty far away you can see someone sitting up. They wave, or you think they do, and you stand in the headlights and wave back. Then the light goes out, and you hop into your own seat and buckle in.

Car rides are always quiet when it's just you and your adoptive father. He could say something to you, and you'd probably catch it, but he can't sign with his hands on the wheel, and he certainly can't look to see your own signs. So usually you just both relax, his focus on the road and yours on the rumble and bump of the wheels beneath you.

One of the vibrations is right against your leg, though. You fumble your phone out of its space and nestle it in your lap. A soft buzz spills out; Asgore starts a little, but keeps himself gazing at the road ahead. On the screen, there's a face familiar to his, and you smile and sign at her. ~Isn't it a little late for silly old ladies to be up?~

Toriel just rolls her eyes at the old joke. Her hands move in beautiful, sweeping patterns. ~Certainly not if it is not too late for a child who intends to become my student to still be awake. How are you feeling, Shelta?~

You smile weakly. ~Sleepy. On the way home.~

Toriel looks thoughtful. ~That would explain the wind I am hearing. And...~ She pauses, and you can _see_ the long, long-suffering breath she takes. “You do not need to be quiet, Asgore. Tonight is not one of those nights.” She's talking to him, but her hands still sign along with her words.

Asgore tenses at the wheel. “Golly, I didn't know it was you at first, Tori...” Reading his speech is tricky from your seat (and tricky in general for a boss monster's muzzle) but you can catch enough to piece together what he's saying.

Toriel gives a long and obvious sigh. “I called mostly to speak with Shelta, but if you have anything you wish to say, I will listen.”

Asgore nods slowly. “Well... I suppose..." Movement catches your eye; you're saved from craning your neck and straining your eyes by Toriel signing for him too. "How are things going there? I would've heard from Chara if Frisk was having trouble, so they must be doing all right, but what about otherwise?”

Toriel nods. “Frisk was badly overstimulated by the end of the day – a certain robotic TV personality's appearance did _not_ help matters – but I was able to help them through it until Chara called them. As for the summit? Frisk conducted themself splendidly. A vote tomorrow on the tariffs is expected to carry by a firm margin. And, well." She takes a breath. "There has been... some favorable response to the main proposal. I suppose we will have to discuss how to arrange things soon." She glances at you. "But, meaning no disrespect to you, Shelta, privately."

Asgore's hands are tense on the wheel. "Golly," he says again. "I... even with Frisk, I never expected..." He shakes his head slowly. "So... things are going well, then?"

Toriel's expression softens. "Thanks in part to you as well," she says quietly. "I do genuinely appreciate you sending a certain new recruit along to meet us. He has carried out his duties splendidly. Even if he seems to be avoiding me after my instrument joke earlier."

Asgore scratches his cheek. "Speaking of people who aren't fond of puns..."

Toriel shakes her head. "Our son is doing fine," she says quietly. "Restless, desperately wanting to be back with Chara, but it has not stopped him from taking excellent care of Frisk. When Frisk had spoken for too long, he seamlessly stepped into his role as their interpreter. He took Frisk to bed a while ago, so he may have decided to join them. Papyrus, as always, has been trying to take him under his wing." She smiles softly. "I am glad that the role of the Royal Guard has changed from its... previous set of duties." For a moment, she scowls, and Asgore winces, but she sighs and calms herself. "Papyrus has taken so eagerly to his position."

Asgore nods, and his body relaxes. "Sans must be very happy."

Toriel actually laughs softly. "Naturally. He has been doing so well lately. I should text him as well, come to think of it." She pauses. "You have not seen him about, have you?"

Asgore lights up. "Actually, he came by right after breakfast, with Chara in tow."

~They're at Undyne's now, though,~ you sign quickly. You don't think Asgore will realize the possibility might upset her.

Toriel tilts her head. "Well, that is good news. They need time to themself, but I worried that Chara would isolate themself beyond what they needed. They spent the day with Sans and you two, then?"

"Until lunch," Asgore rumbles happily. "Grillby thought it was a good chance for Shelta to see the Underground, and after we finished eating, Chara took him to look around."

~Undyne picked us up when we got out,~ you add. ~Sans told her we'd need a ride.~

"Excellent." Toriel sighs softly. "I will call you later on regarding the specifics of the summit, and the main issue in particular. For now, I did call to communicate with Shelta."

Asgore slumps a little bit in his seat. "I understand. Let me know if there's any trouble with Frisk or Asriel."

"I will." Toriel's focus returns to you. ~I imagine that Alphys and the rest seized on the chance to have another of their anime nights?~

You can't help smiling. ~He was going to pick me up, but he stayed for another round of episodes instead. And karaoke.~

Toriel rolls her eyes. ~Naturally. Alphys is an absolutely terrible influence on the man.~ She winks. ~No wonder you are only now driving home.~

~There were a lot of monsters there,~ you add. ~I hadn't met a lot of them.~

~I am glad,~ she signs. ~This is, after all, a very new world for you. I wish for you to become happy and comfortable in it.~ She smiles. ~Who else came? I doubt Sans would miss it, particularly with Chara there. And of course Undyne would be present, since you mentioned she was home in time to pick you and Chara up.~

You nod, and think. ~I got to meet Gerson. And the dogs came. _All_ of the dogs, as Chara put it. Chara seemed really happy, even when Endogeny came.~

Toriel frowns a little. ~Ah, you have never met any of the Amalgamates, have you?~ She finger-spells the name; you've never heard it before. ~Were you frightened? Xe truly does not mean to harm anyone. Xe... cannot help xer appearance. Or being confused, at times.~

Endogeny is kind of spooky, but... ~Not after seeing Chara sitting against xer side. I just need to get used to xem, I think. Xe is definitely a little startling to see at first.~

Toriel beams. ~Chara does love dogs very much. I often wish that both Frisk and I were not called away so frequently. Perhaps then Chara could have one.~ She shakes her head. ~And... what of Alphys? How did she react?~

You think back. Actually... ~She was acting happy to see xem. She brought out a big bowl of food and gave Chara a bunch of treats to use with xem and Greater Dog. But she seemed... kind of sad. Not because Endogeny was there, but...~ You frown. It's... difficult to explain this sort of thing - the slowness of her movements, the way her smile kept faltering, the way her eyes would lose focus on actual things to look at memories instead...

Toriel nods with understanding, though, and she gently waves her hands. ~Do not worry, I can follow what you are saying. And I know why, as well.~ She pauses. ~If you want further details, you will have to ask Alphys herself, but... let us say she feels... regret over Endogeny's current state. There was a time when she sought to use determination to save the lives of monsters who had fallen down.~

Her hands twitch a little, and you have to try _very hard_ not to frown. ~And... Endogeny was part of that?~

Toriel's smile is a little more nervous. ~It would be more accurate to say that a fair few of the monsters who were part of the experiment are now xem. It was not possible to know at the time - the only person who had ever done such research before encrypted his notes heavily - but determination has a very... unique sort of effect upon monsters.~

It clicks, suddenly. The ways in which Endogeny, despite clearly being a dog, seemed very unlike one. The unnerving way xe moves. The fact that Chara felt the need to try and calm you - have they done that for Frisk, too? The fact that xe uses a pronoun that you've never heard any other monster using.

And... Toriel was talking about "Amalgamates" before. There are more like Endogeny. No wonder Alphys seemed so sad - no, _regretful_.

~I am glad,~ Toriel continues signing as you try to keep focus. ~I worried that Alphys would continue avoiding them, as she did for a very long time before the Barrier fell. But from what you say, clearly she did her best to welcome them and to be a good host.~ She smiles. ~I once again feel vindicated in my decision to relieve her of her duties as Royal Scientist. Of course, I could hardly let her remain after the poor manner in which she dealt with the outcome of her experiments, but clearly losing that burdensome weight has been good for her.~

You nod. Sure, you didn't know her before, but, as you go on to express, ~She seemed pretty active and happy. Even if she was nervous the whole time.~

Toriel's fangs flash a soft pearl when she laughs. Asgore shifts uncomfortably in his seat, and you carefully mute the call volume. ~I am not surprised. But I am happy. I very much doubt Alphys will ever not feel anxious around large groups, but if it does not prevent her from enjoying herself, I can think of nothing better for her than to be surrounded by people who not only tolerate her special interests but have gathered for the express purpose of sharing in them with her.~

You remember a pause in one series, where Undyne had asked a casual question, "Weren't you telling me earlier that there was something special about the animation on that last scene?" Alphys had lit up, tail swinging rapidly as she gestured wildly, and had launched into an ecstatic flow of words so fervent and wild that Chara had struggled to keep up even a gist translation. She'd gone on for several minutes about the symbolism in the scene and the careful work on the shot composition and how it used something called a leitmotif (Chara, looking apologetic, signed to you that it had to do with the musical scoring) and how it was full of intentional parallels to a scene from the first episode...

It reminds you, a little, of when Frisk pushes one of their books in front of you, fixes you with a serious wide-eyed stare, and makes their hands blur with the speed of their signing as they tell you urgently about deep-sea vents or ghost sharks (!) or stranger things like how octopi change their genes on the fly. (~They follow Lamarck, not Darwin!~ they signed at one point, and you had to look up who both of those people are later and you're _still_ not totally sure what Frisk meant there.)

You smile back at Toriel. ~She definitely got to do that tonight. Come to think of it, Undyne might've been trying to intentionally set up a chance for her to.~

Toriel laughs again; you're glad you muted the call. ~I see. I am hardly surprised.~

(She did seem a little sheepish after she petered out, but Chara had signed brightly to you, ~That scene held a good deal of foreshadowing. She spoiled what it foreshadowed.~ And, well, that's a good reason, but you did very carefully sign ~that was interesting!~ to her, and when Undyne whispered a translation in her ear she blushed and tried to hide behind the thumbs-up she gave you in return.)

(Come to think of it, her burst of information also reminds you a little of Chara teaching about the wolf stars this afternoon, or their little lessons on the Underground.)

~Anyway,~ you add, ~She's still probably glad that things are getting quiet. Gerson slept through karaoke, Sans was laying on the back of the couch when I left and barely moved when he waved, and even Undyne's getting tired.~

Toriel nods. ~Indeed. I am certain as well that Alphys will be glad for the chance to wind down. She is at her happiest, I think, around a few people at a time. Sans and Chara, the two young girls who run the thrift shop and whom she has known since before becoming Royal Scientist, Gerson at times, and of course Undyne. She may let others in, but Alphys most definitely has her circle, and sticks close by them.~

She pauses for a long moment. ~I know I should trust Frisk will tell me anything I need to hear, but I still worry. From what Asgore said, you've been with them all day. What do you think?~

You know she means Chara. You think carefully.

~I think today was good for them,~ you sign after a long moment. ~They're getting used to being around me, I think. Except for when I tapped their shoulder, they were mostly calm.~

Toriel purses her lips softly. ~Please understand, it is not any fault of yours that Chara...~

You shake your head. ~No, of course not. I know what it looks like when someone's gone through what Chara must have.~ You give a long sigh. ~It was stupid of me to touch them anyway. Of course they'd be on edge after tiring themself out like that.~

Toriel tilts her head. ~What was it they did that would tire them out?~

You pause - maybe Toriel isn't supposed to know about this? - but it's too late anyway. ~We met MK underground, near the old tree. He wanted to see Chara's magic.~

Toriel laughs softly. ~Oh dear. They overdid it, then?~

~Yes. They didn't even notice when I tried to get their attention by stamping.~ Well, thinking back, the soil probably made it harder too.

Toriel frowns, and her eyes bore into you. ~They did not harm you, did they?~

You shake your head quickly, but you know you need to tell the truth. ~They stopped themself before they even drew.~

Toriel gives a long sigh. ~I... see. Perhaps we should leave it at that, at least between us.~

That's probably a good idea. If Toriel wants to say more, it should be between her and them. ~It was a little rough in the morning. Chara got mad at themself for starting to tell me about Frisk's food issues.~ She looks confused for a moment, so you hurriedly add, ~Because they thought they were acting like that was something I needed to be told. When it's not.~

Toriel shakes her head slowly. ~I see.~

~Sans came and started telling jokes, though.~ You smile at the memory of Chara's silly sofa pun. ~I'm... really glad they have someone like him. He got them smiling again so easily.~

~I am hardly surprised.~ Toriel's smiling too. ~Sans was a very great help to me for a long time, before Frisk left on their adventure and the Barrier broke.~

She pauses. ~Speaking of which. You said that you both explored the Underground?~

You nod. ~Grillby suggested it, since I'd never been.~ You definitely need to eat at his place again sometime.

Toriel nods back. ~And... how was Chara?~

You think for a long moment again. ~They wanted to visit the flower bed first. The one Frisk fell onto.~

Toriel goes still for a long moment. ~I... have not visited there in a long time, myself,~ she finally replies. ~I am surprised Chara would want to, considering.~

Considering what, you don't know, nor is it your place to. ~After that it was fine. Chara seemed to have some fun telling me about the Underground. And MK joined us after the fight.~

You smile, and Toriel returns it. She's still thinking about it, though. ~You will have to tell me all about it. But first, is there anything else you noticed about Chara today?~

Yes, there is, and you sigh. ~I'm worried they're trying too much to be comfortable around me. They think they _need_ to, because I'm Frisk's human friend, or maybe they think there's something wrong with them feeling how they do about humans, or... I don't know. But it worries me.~

Toriel shifts. ~Did they tell you how they feel?~

Your hands shake a little. ~They told me they hate humans. But they also talked about exceptions and earmarking one for me.~ You don't mention that they laughed at the idea of making one for themself. Toriel knows, you're certain.

Toriel's sigh makes the fur on her arms rustle. ~Chara has always been very adamant about the belief that they _owe_ people things and that they must fulfill any obligations that people _deserve_ from them. Thank you for telling me about this, Shelta. I know you will support them if you can should they push themself too far.~

_If_ you can. You remember the look on Chara's face when you touched them. ~I was with them since a little after breakfast. I think I should just let them be for now.~

~That is likely best,~ Toriel agrees. ~But do not think for an instant that you did not do well today. You ensured that Chara was not left alone to do nothing but miss Frisk and Asriel all day. They were active and spent most of their time in the company of friends. Too much, perhaps, but they know to let themself rest tomorrow if that proves to be the case.~

~They miss you too,~ you point out gently.

Toriel's smile is so bright. So why does she seem sad? ~I know. Thank you, Shelta.~

~And, on that note,~ she adds, ~I would love to talk with you about your day, if you would like.~

You glance around. You know these streets. ~I would, but in a little while. We're almost home, and I want to take care of some stuff before I make a long phone call.~

Toriel nods. ~Perfectly reasonable,~ she signs. ~I will make some calls of my own and contact you again when I am done, unless of course you are asleep.~

You might be, come to think of it. But Toriel's already waved to you and reached to end the call, so you wave hastily back before the video closes. With a sigh, you change over to text.

**Almost home. How are you feeling?**

Chara's response is quick. **I decided to stargaze a little while longer. Hopefully Undyne will be asleep when I go down. I want to spend some quiet time with Alphys.**

Have they been waiting for that all this time? **Thanks for today. I had a lot of fun.**

**I am glad to hear that. I know I am hardly the best of company, but I am mostly content with how today went.**

You smile, just a little. **But next time, please don't push yourself so hard. I think we'll both be happier for it.**

This time there's a long pause. Asgore's about to turn into the driveway. **I am uncertain I take your meaning. How am I pushing myself?**

**Chara.** You're not going to let up on this one. **Please. Don't pretend you're unaware.**

The car hums to a stop. Chara's message finally beeps. **I understand what you mean. But surely I cannot claim I am pushing myself too hard when I am only doing the most basic of things obliged to you.**

**Can it be a process, at least?** You frown softly at your phone. **You don't have to do this all at once. Even Frisk didn't win you over in a day, right?**

**No, but they did manage a head-start. =) Even so, I know you already from the memories they allowed me to share in. I should already be treating you like the person I know you are.**

You take a long breath. **I understand, Chara. Someone our age doesn't declare a hatred for all humans without a very powerful reason.**

There's enough time to get out and close the door before your phone buzzes. **... I don't hate you, Shelta.**

You smile. **I think that's good enough to start.**

**I will... try. I do not deny I still feel a sense of** _**oblige** _ **when it comes to you.**

There's no need to ask why they feel it. **Hurting yourself because you feel obliged to will only make me feel guilty. I want you to take care of yourself first before trying to push how far you feel comfortable around me.**

Asgore takes your hand gently between two clawed fingers and leads you gently inside, but you manage to peek down. **Small wonder that your soul is the same hue as Ypres'. Still, thank you. I will take your concern to heart. For now, I am going to head inside. Rest well, Shelta.**

Inside, Asgore smiles, and heaves a giant yawn. ~Well,~ he signs slowly. ~That was fun.~

~It was.~ You give him your best smile. ~I'm sleepy too.~

Asgore chuckles softly, and you watch his breath play with the long fur of his mane. ~Yes, I think I'll save talking for over cereal tomorrow. Would you like me to carry you up?~

You would, and tell him as such, and in moments you're sitting atop his huge bicep, forearm tucked against you to keep you steady, and Asgore is padding up the long stairway upwards - this house was designed for his tall, broad frame, after all. He hugs you with a sleepy tightness before depositing you into bed, and you don't even bother getting out of your clothes.

You'll try to stay up just a little longer, in case Toriel calls back, but otherwise you're happy to nestle down under the blankets. Tomorrow is just a warm, deep sleep away, and you can hardly wait.

 


	11. Verse 3 - Asriel ~ A Prince Who Loves and is Loved

It's really not a surprise, but once Frisk falls asleep it takes a while before you can get untangled from their grip. At least not without waking them back up. How does someone so tiny manage to hold so tightly? Maybe Alphys should be studying _that_.

Then again, Chara always clung to you, back then.

Things are still going strong when you get back down to the courtyard, but the stage is manned by Napstablook right now. Mettaton's sitting off to one side, and he looks... almost peaceful. Then he locks eyes with you, does his best impression of Frisk's eyes, and gives you his very best "come hither" finger-crook. You do your absolute best to not blush through your fur.

Still, when a star openly wants to talk... You settle beside him. "Frisk's asleep."

Mettaton nods. "I'm glad. They were pushing themself so hard in the name of fun and stardom." He shakes his head, and his hair almost looks like it's flowing. "But while that's a good thing to know, it's not what I was after. You've been wanting to talk with me all night, haven't you, darling?"

It's sort of true, but maybe the whole truth is better. "Does it count if I just want to talk to _someone_? Not you in specific?"

Mettaton's smile is even more winning than usual. "And yet here you are. Not with Papyrus, not with your mother, not with our darling of darlings. With me."

You shake your head. "There's a lot I don't feel comfortable talking to Mom about. Frisk has enough without listening to me, and Papyrus is great, but..."

Mettaton nods again. "Well, I do suppose there are some things even a very great royal guardsman can't help you through." He winks.

That's about the point your cellphone rings. You'd silence it right away, but that's Chara's personal ringtone.

"So when were you going to tell me the big metal star was about?" is the first thing you hear.

"Hello to you too," you snark lightly to them. "How do you even know?"

Chara snorts. "Frisk called me earlier. I couldn't call you again until now, you know how things are when everyone gets together, and then I had to see off Shelta."

You just shake your head a little. The two of you talk for a little bit - nothing  _important_ , just chit-chat about how anime night's going and how you personally feel about today ("I could be a prince  _officially_ soon, Chara!") and things like that. Honestly, you're just happy to hear their voice again, and Chara says they're going to do some serious time stuff soon, which means you can't call them until it's over, and you want to hear that voice as much as you can  _while_ you can.

But Chara called to talk to Mettaton, and they really don't like it when you try to hog them instead of being intermediary, and soon you hand off the phone to the robot. He brightens up at the voice on the other end. "Chara, _darling_! How nice of you." He pauses, listening. "Well, simply put, a certain fabulous someone made it known that Frisk and their party were passing through this lovely city. And as it just so happened, we had a stop fairly nearby! So we were able to divert."

Another pause. "It's a _little_ extra work, but... come now, Chara, it was a chance to see Frisk again. Nobody on the crew minds working extra hard for that." He gives that laugh of his; it sounds so _fake_ and _forced_ but it's so clearly genuine. "And don't you fret, darling. I'll be sure to make time for you in two weeks when we're nearby."

His voice drops - he actually turns down the dial on his chest for this. "Darling, you're at Alphy's, aren't you? You haven't, ah... You did? I see. And Pareil...? Mmn, no change. I had suspected. Still, that's not as bad a piece of news as it seems, you realize. It has been months, after all. If they were going to pay a pyrrhic toll for their determination, it would have been paid by now." He laughs. "Listen to me going on. You hardly need me to tell you that, when you see them far more often. Keep your spirits up, darling. I wish it were sooner, but they will recover eventually. All of them will. I'll see you when the tour swings by, I promise."

He taps the phone lightly and presses it into your hands. "Apologies, darling. You wanted to talk, not listen to my gorgeous voice."

"You're so friendly with Chara." The words are out before you really think to keep them in.

Mettaton blinks. "Why wouldn't I be, darling? I've known them for a while." He gives you a dazzling grin. "Why, Chara and Pareil were both invaluable support to me back in the day. They both nudged Alphys into designing my body, and they encouraged me to take that chance to shape myself to my own image and gamble on stardom."

You're... lost. "Who's Pareil? And how would you have known Chara back then?"

Mettaton cocks his head in an almost puppy-like way. "Pareil was one of the fallen humans. I knew Chara through them - though Chara styled themself 'Reverie' back then. They anchored themself to Pareil's determination, and traveled with them. As, or so Chara has told me, they did for all the other fallen humans. Save the first, that is."

Your soul goes cold and still for a long moment. Of course. It _would_ have to be one of them.

You know Alphys has the souls kept carefully in her lab, but you've never gone there. How could you? How could you even think about going there, after what you did to them? You shouldn't be trusted anywhere near them. They didn't fix your soul and turn you back into a monster for your sake, and even someone as bad as you isn't going to try and impose on them further after that.

You couldn't hear what Frisk said to any of them, back when you fought them as Flowey, but when each soul broke free of you, you got a good look at their real selves. Every single one, you misjudged so horribly. And back then... you didn't care. You didn't even call on them in the right order. Now, it's too late to care. You don't _get_ to get to know them after using them like that without understanding a thing about who they were or why they met Mom.

(You didn't even know any of their names. You still don't now.)

"Darling?" Mettaton looks... concerned, almost, and you realize you've driven your claws straight through your pants. Again. You really need to stop doing things that cost money when you don't have a job yet.

"How... did you know Chara, though?" you offer weakly. "I mean... they were with the other humans, sure, but..."

Mettaton nods. "Well, to put it simply, Chara at the time was close enough to being a ghost that my cousins and I could see them." He beams and looks into the distance. "I certainly was pleasantly surprised when I first encountered Frisk and saw the same ghostly child again. It had been quite a long while since then."

You definitely know that. When you woke up, it wasn't very long after the kid with the yellow soul had died. But that was ages ago. When you finally gave up resetting things and just let the world exist without you in it, you tried to keep track of the time at first. Frisk fell down a long, long time after you gave up on that too - and you'd gotten very good at sticking to boring things by then.

"So you knew... Pareil?" you offer weakly.

Mettaton tosses his hair. "A wonderful, dear child," he says. "They and Chara were frequent attendees at the little club Alphys and I set up. In fact, I'm fairly sure at least one of them tipped off Alphys to my desire for a proper body."

You nod. "This was before Alphys built this version of you?" Mettaton's been a lot less secretive about his origins since coming to the surface. After all, Alphys already got fired, it's not like something bad would happen if Dad found out the "robot with a soul" was technically a monster's soul inhabiting a robotic body.

(Honestly, you know the real reason - it lets him be open about Napstablook being his cousin, and that gives him an excuse to keep the DJ ghost in his life. Even in the timelines where you did literally everything Blook-related right, you've never seen them so happy.)

Mettaton nods enthusiastically. "Exactly. Back then I was just a simple ghost questioning my very self and fascinated by everything human. Alphys joined the group with her library of anime - not that she could fool me into thinking that cartoons were 'history'. It was a nice way to get to know at least a sliver of human culture, though." He laughs. "And then, one day a human walked out of the tall grass right in front of me."

You're a little surprised Mettaton hadn't gone after them. "So they joined up?"

Mettaton laughs. "Those were... enjoyable times. Even if they turned into design meetings for my body fairly soon. Pareil was a dancer, and a wonderful one at that. Someone - I suspect your mother - had taught them magic, and they used it to enhance their dancing." He sighs wistfully, and his hair goes wavy again as he shakes his head. "Their soul was so beautiful. As deep as the ocean, but shining as bright as a star..."

The blue soul. You'd made them remember and parrot every awful thing that had been said to them over the years. You'd taken a soul brimming with self-worth and integrity and tried to force them to chain Frisk's soul for you. They _definitely_ don't want to see you.

Mettaton's still talking. "They told me to shine, too, as myself. When I had my doubts near the end, it was Pareil who urged me on - and urged me not to ever let myself be shaped by what I thought the crowd wanted. They made me feel valuable and wanted as just me."

He's quiet for a while after that, and something finally occurs to you. "How do you know about them, anyway? Alphys isn't exactly open about keeping six human souls recovering in her lab."

Mettaton winks at you. "Darling, I know I very much seem like I've forgotten it fairly often - and sometimes I actually do - but Alphys _is_ a very dear friend."

Well. He _did_ put up with her hare-brained scheme to get Frisk to like her. Mettaton goes on. "I am quite aware I look more apt to sound _off_ than sound _board_ , but I always listen if Alphys needs to confide in me." He pauses, and looks embarrassed. "Well, I do now, anyways. Blooky's call after Frisk beat me was... eye-opening, to say the least. And Chara's comments just before I ran out of power went a long way towards deflating a robot who'd become entirely too full of himself."

(... it's "be a sounding board", and that's for ideas! What the heck is "sound board" even supposed to mean? Good grief.)

"So you support Alphys?" you ask instead. "And she told you about the souls one of those times?"

Mettaton nods. "After all, one of them was a mutual friend! So yes, I know about them." He frowns. "Chara said there's not much change. Then again, it's not surprising their recovery is slow even with Alphys' technology."

"That's a pretty big even." You glance over at him, and finally notice the fine grey cord clipped onto his belt. (You'd been wondering about that - you were pretty sure Alphys still hadn't quite worked out his battery issue.) "You really think a lot of her, huh? Not that there aren't plenty of reasons to."

Mettaton beams. "Are you joking, darling? Alphys has done so much for me. It's because of her fantastic work in robotics that I was able to have this body. And while her predecessor may have laid some of the groundwork on her human-related projects, my 'heart' is entirely her design and based entirely on her study with Kythra and Pareil." He pauses, and indicates the blue heart nestled in his buckle. "We may still not share the same taste in entertainment, but Alphys is my friend and I trust her implicitly. This is my soul in here, after all, and her hands built this device and helped mount my soul in it. Nobody else can say that."

(Apart from that time he exposed it to Frisk and got blasted with magic for his trouble. Come to think of it, Alphys made that too.)

Still, he's right, and you remember suddenly the sight of Chara, their face lit by starlight and your very self cupped in their hands. You remember how much they insisted they would hurt you just with their touch. You remember, too, quiet moments shared with Chara, fear written all over their face but their hands offering their soul to your grasp. You'd always loved the light of Chara's soul. It was like a sunset, like you could trust them no matter how awful things seemed.

(Things were pretty awful, at the end, but you made yourself keep trusting. The heat of their soul inside of yours is also something you'll always remember.)

"Mettaton?" you ask after a long moment. "Do you... love Alphys?"

Mettaton leans in close and turns his volume as low as it goes. "Are we finally getting to what you wanted to ask, darling?" he asks. "Love is not an easy word to pin down. I'd need to know what you mean by it, before I can answer truthfully."

You have no idea what to do with your hands. "I mean... she's done a lot for you... she obviously really cares about you..." You pointedly do not mention that you know perfectly well she would "do something cowardly" (her words, not yours) if he died. Or she would have, before. "I mean, if you love her for that, I should..."

Mettaton shakes his head. This time, his hair somehow doesn't go anywhere. "Think of it this way, darling." He fixes you with both eyes. "You love your parents, of course. And you love Chara, that much is glaringly obvious. But you wouldn't compare how you feel about Toriel to how you feel about Chara. Or to how I feel about my fans, or the way Undyne and Alphys feel about each other. It's all relative." He smiles. "But, as far as Alphys? I care very much about her. I would be... _very_ upset were something to happen to her. And when I'm not forgetting myself, or more accurately not forgetting to not _act_ as if I were forgetting myself, I try to be available and supportive. You can say it's love, if you consider that love, but I think you have something more particular in mind."

Well, he's right, but you can't just come out and say it. "It's just... well..."

Mettaton gives you the most infuriating smirk you've ever seen. "It's Frisk, isn't it, darling?"

Okay, apparently _he_ can just come out and say it?! "They've done so much for me. They're... so incredible. I'd still be living in the Ruins now, all alone and as a flower, if it weren't for them. Shouldn't I love them back? Aren't I even worse than I usually concede if I don't?"

Mettaton immediately breaks the record he just set. "Asriel. _Darling_. Are you really going to sit there and tell me you think something as important as love is supposed to follow _quid pro quo_? Do you think I care about Alphys as much as I do because I owe her my love for building me my body? What about Chara? Do you think they only love you because they think they owe it to you?"

You suddenly realize you're playing with your pawpads, and jerk your hands away from them. Golly, for someone who's lived through decades (and that's just by everyone else's measure), you can be such a _baby_. "Frisk wants to be loved. Shouldn't I give them that?"

Mettaton sighs again, and this time it's so forced his audio distorts a little. "Asriel, Asriel, Asriel. That's not what love is about. Love is an emotion. It's not a reward, or a payment, or even a gift." He brushes back his bangs and looks you right in both eyes again. "Or is this part of a bigger worry about yourself?"

You kinda get what he's aiming at, but... you love Chara still, and you know that. This isn't just a flower remembering when he used to love someone. "It isn't that I can't love."

(Unless you're just fooling yourself. Or maybe your soul is just too broken for anything new.)

Mettaton seems totally unfazed. "Ah well. Even I can't be right every time." He tosses his hair for about the fifth time. "But, I still think it might be more simple than you think. What makes you think you _don't_ love Frisk?"

(... what is he even talking about?)

You shake your head. "Because I... don't feel like I love them? Even if they deserve it?"

Mettaton smiles gently. "From what I understand, you couldn't love _anyone_ until a few months ago. Don't you think maybe that might make it hard to realize if you are?"

"I love Chara." You do. You definitely do. "Being with Frisk doesn't... feel like that."

Mettaton nods. "Asriel. I think the problem is that you're treating this like some sort of choice. You're asking, 'do I love Frisk, or do I not?' Take it from someone whose body runs on transistors - not everything is binary." He pauses, and then hides a bright laugh behind his hand. "But someone who lives with Frisk and Chara would already know that, of course!"

You don't get it. "I don't get it," you tell him.

Mettaton nods. "I mean, don't worry so much about whether you _do_ or _don't_ love Frisk," he says softly. "Think about _how_ you feel about them. And keep in mind that it's been a long time since you've had a chance to know what loving someone _feels_ like." He stands. "Now, darling. I would love to chat all night - and please believe that I really do mean that..."

(You do, honestly. Mettaton isn't one for platitudes.)

"But, I actually do have to get back to the stage," he finishes. "My batteries are charged, and Blooky's counting on me for the next number."

You nod. "Hey, they need you, right?"

He winks. "That's a kind of love too, prince. You'll see. Stop worrying over a name for your feelings, and think about what those feelings are."

Then he turns, spools the cord into his belt with a stylish whoosh (what the hell does Mettaton do that _isn't_ stylish?! answer: nothing) and _dashes_ back to the stage with a leap and a twirl and a huge, excited shout.

... except he's left his volume dial down, so he has to fix that first before properly talking to everyone. Not that he misses a beat when he does.

You sigh, and think quietly to yourself. What your feelings are? How you feel about Frisk? What does that mean, though? Love is a thing. You're either in love, or you aren't. Right?

When the song finishes, Mettaton leans over to whisper to Napstablook, who nods. Then he meets your eyes from the stage and winks.

He told you to think about it. It can't hurt. So when the music starts, you close your eyes and you think about Frisk. You've known them for almost three years now, and you still feel pathetic when you remember how you clung to the idea that somehow, some way, they were Chara, that your best friend had heard your call and come back to you. It wasn't until your first defeat, when they'd both addressed you in a way that made it all too clear, that you even realized there was someone besides Chara.

And yet you'd still assumed Frisk, the complete, uninjured soul, was Chara, and that the fragment that clung to Frisk's determination must be some other, unimportant person. You still remember the horror in Frisk's eyes when you'd used your powers as a god to steal Chara away. And even then, even when you had Chara's soul all to yourself, you'd ignored them and gone after Frisk. Considering what you'd gone and said after, _while standing on Chara's grave_ , you'd decided more or less that you absolutely deserved to be alone forever after that.

(And, well. Someone really did need to take care of those flowers. Who better than a flower who owed a very big apology to the person who was buried there?)

Frisk had other ideas, though. They gave you a little space to start, but they were visiting you well before a month had gone by. Sometimes they came together, sometimes Frisk came to get Chara back. (You never got why Chara would let go when that meant they had to snap back _there_ of all places, but they did sometimes, and you took what chances you could to talk when they did.) Frisk brought you news of the surface, of their work as ambassador, of Chara supporting them and starting to slowly be more open about their presence.

And then one day they'd come and retrieved Chara again. It had been almost two weeks this time, and you gathered Chara was worried and maybe actually a little angry with Frisk. That was also the first time you heard of Shelta, and of Frisk's attempts to find him. Chara told you that they thought Frisk wasn't looking as hard as they could, and they were worried about what that might mean. They'd alluded quite a few times to "how we were", but you still don't get what they mean.

Then Frisk had come. Their voice was so quiet you couldn't hear, and you could never hear Chara if they were talking to Frisk anyway, but it took a long, long time before Frisk put a hand to their heart and relaxed. Then they'd turned and plopped down a huge and kinda crudely-made pot in front of you. "Dad finally made a big one that he's happy with," they told you with a smile. "C'mon, try it out."

They started filling the pot with soil, and... well, you took a long minute to figure out what they were even talking about. You were dead set against it, of course, but Frisk is pretty much literally determination incarnate. (It helped that Chara took over to howl "Damnit, Asri, just come home with us!" at you. Plus, you always hated seeing Chara cry.) So after a while, there you were, in a huge flowerpot that Frisk strained themself to carry all the way out of Ebott.

(Or at least to Hotland. Your pot was too heavy to do the steam puzzles with, so Frisk got _him_ to show up and get you all the rest of the way to the palace.)

... golly, that was a little more than two years ago now. That was when you really started getting to know Frisk, and that's what you start thinking about as the music builds.

Above all, you remember contact. It had taken a long time for Chara to be comfortable with your touch, or your parents', and even in the end there were times when it just wasn't okay. But with Frisk, you remember soft little kisses along your petals, and reaching up with your leaves to hug against their face. You remember them carrying your pot around, or sitting with it nestled in their lap. You remember their hands very carefully plucking away bugs that snuck into your pot, or holding you carefully while the spent soil was replaced. You remember them watering you every day when they weren't away, and you cupping your leaves while they poured water down over them.

Most of all, you remember their care and caution. When Chara did touch you, it was either to pull on your ears or play with your muzzle, or else it was an act of fierce tenderness. They were rough with you. They played with you in a mean way, or they clung to you as if they never wanted to let go. (You never did, either.) It actually drove you a little crazy trying to understand them, at first, and it was a long time before you worked out your system. Even then, Chara insisted on a way to tell you, no matter what, that they needed you to let go, and right away. (They also insisted on calling it their "safe sign", and got a huge smirk whenever they called it that. You don't get that one either.)

Frisk isn't like that, though. You never minded Chara's roughness (well, not usually) but there really is something nice about the way Frisk touches you. They're so gentle and cautious with everything they do. Almost like they're never sure they're allowed. Which is weird, because they obviously really, really love it. There are days you're certain Frisk has spent more time in someone's arms or on their shoulders than with their feet on the ground.

Still. For almost two years, they took care of you. Even after everything you'd done. And then... suddenly you were _you_ again, not some echo or memory of the prince but the real, true, Prince Asriel Dreemurr. And since then, you've gotten to see how Frisk is with Chara.

Frisk loves Chara. You've known that the whole time. Of course. Frisk loves everyone, after all, or nearly everyone. But... not like they love Chara. You don't see worry in when they touch, you see... respect, you think the word has to be. They never do anything without making sure Chara is okay with it. When Chara was overloaded just after you both came back, Frisk let go right away. Then they turned and _ordered_ you to stop trying to hug them. Sometimes, you think Frisk knows the reasons why Chara can't stand to be touched sometimes, even better than you do.

Maybe that's it. Back then, you'd told Frisk they were the friend you really wanted. And... that was sort of true. You wish Chara was less mean and sharp sometimes. You wish you could hold them, no matter what, and feel them nestled against you. (That was the one downside to your plan, but you'd always told yourself it'd be like you were hugging all of Chara, forever.)

(It wasn't.)

And then you'd met Frisk, who reminded you of Chara but were different in all the ways you'd wished deep down they were. It was so easy to pretend that they really were Chara, come back to life but even better than before. That Chara had gotten better while they were gone. Luckily, Chara understood that too, and they explained it to Frisk when you couldn't.

But still. Maybe the truth is that Frisk is the friend Chara always deserved to have.

Maybe that's why you didn't exactly feel happy when you saw that picture of Frisk and Chara nestled together this morning.

... this isn't helping. You already _know_ you feel guilty. You already _know_ you're not always as good of a best friend to Chara as you could be. You already _know_ you used to be jealous of Frisk.

You think about it again. Frisk's gentle care, their hesitance, it's... all about respect and affection, isn't it? And it really is nice. You like being around them. Not just because you're grateful for them literally _bringing you two back from the dead_ , either. Frisk is adorable and sweet and they do so much for other people that it kind of worries you sometimes. Like today. You don't get why, but something about just being in this city makes Frisk on edge. But they're still here, trying to help the monsters. And that really worries you. That's why you were out here ahead of them helping set things up - they have to spend less time here that way. Even if that meant staying away from Chara longer.

Is that it? You care about Frisk? Enough to do things that take you away from Chara?

(Because you do love Chara. Even having your soul shatter into tiny bits didn't take that away from you. Even more than yourself, you're grateful that Frisk was able to save Chara.)

Maybe that really is it. But you're not sure. Maybe you won't ever be. After all, you don't feel the same about Frisk that you do about Chara. You don't cling to them, or get anxious when you have to be apart. You wouldn't have been tempted this morning if it were Chara with you and Frisk at home.

You remember the feel of Frisk's hands on your leaves again, their lips brushing your petals. That isn't the same as how they feel about Chara. But... don't they love you? Everything they do makes you think that. Maybe that's what Mettaton means? That Frisk loves you both, just not in the same way? That... maybe you do love Frisk already, just not the way you love Chara?

Considering he's now singing heartily about "a thousand ways to be in love", you have a feeling that's it. Just a hunch.

After all, he's right. It's been only a few months since you were able to feel at all.

The next song is lively and kicks you out of your brooding; you have a feeling that one was planned too. And really, you let yourself stop thinking about things for a while. It's fine to not know exactly, isn't it?

It's a long while later before Mom gently urges you to get some sleep yourself. When you settle in beside Frisk, though, they peek sleepily at you. (You at least know them well enough to tell their usual look from actually sleepy.) "Something wrong?" they murmur.

You shake your head quickly. "No. Sorry! I was just getting into bed myself."

Frisk nods a little. "Don't worry. I'm having good dreams tonight." They smile. "I was talking with Ypres. She was making macaroons."

You don't need to ask that one. "Frisk. Before you go back to sleep, can I ask you something?"

Their hands fasten gently in your mesh. "What do you need?"

You take a long breath. "Frisk, do you love me?"

Frisk presses on you gently, and you roll over. It's not like Frisk could actually make you move. They nestle in on top, and you're struck again by just how light they are. You can barely feel their weight on you. "I want to," they murmur gently. "It'd be wonderful."

You're still not as good at reading Frisk yet. "What do you mean? I mean... you can't make yourself be in love with someone."

Frisk considers. "I mean... I want that for _us_. Both with the other." They smile shyly. "I just want to be careful. I want this to turn out right."

Well... it sort of makes sense. "Why so careful, though?"

Frisk shifts a little. "Chara showed me how you two were. It's not what I want for us."

"Like how you and Chara are?" They really are different from how you were back then. It makes sense, a little. "You love each other, don't you?"

Frisk giggles. "Of course. They're my best friend."

You start to say something, but they touch the side of your muzzle gently. "They're yours too. Nobody's replacing anyone. I promise."

What they have really is different, even if they call it the same thing. It wouldn't make sense to be jealous if it were the same thing. "But... if it's different..."

Frisk nuzzles in. "It's still love, silly goat. We don't look like Mom and Dad did, right?"

Well... that's true. They were _embarrassing_ back then. "I should love you. You deserve it. It's because of you that..."

Their fingers slide easily between the mesh and bury themselves in your fur. "I want you to love me for who I am."

And not what they did? "Frisk... why are you so careful around me?"

Frisk smiles gently. "I'm just nervous. I want to make sure this turns out right. It'll be awful if it doesn't. So..."

You hold them close against yourself and let the feeling of their fingers in your fur sink in. "And if it does?"

Frisk nods firmly. "It will. I'm watching. So's Chara."

Their fingers are winding in your fur. You remember, vaguely, that you started wearing mesh at night so Chara could get at it more easily. "Frisk? Do you think I even can, after what happened? Maybe... what if I only can love Chara because I already loved them before?"

Frisk boops your muzzle gently. "I don't think you need to worry. You care. Even when you were a flower. Remember?"

You do. Hiding in the dark of Frisk's backpack, hearing the voices, _not_ hearing Frisk replying. You'd only come out and talked when Frisk whispered that they were alone (of _course_ they knew you'd snuck along) but that didn't mean you didn't want to shut up every last one of them. Actively.

Frisk shakes their head. "You knew I'd be upset if you hurt them. You knew I didn't want them hurt. You listened instead. That's caring." They nestle in against you. "I'm not careful because I don't feel safe. I know what we can be. And that includes you loving me back."

Their eyes are drooping. "Frisk... you should sleep."

Frisk buries their head under your muzzle. "Mhm. You too, Asri." They pause. "Asriel."

They do that sometimes. You're glad they correct themself though. That's your special name that Chara gave you, and not even Frisk should use it. You know Chara feels the same way. You put a claw gently against their fist before they can start circling their chest though. "It's fine. I don't want an apology."

Frisk tucks themself in even more snugly against you. "Okay."

You wind your arms around them, and you can feel them go quiet and their breathing slow; they're asleep. Soon, so are you.

 


	12. Verse 3 - Chara ~ In Flowerbeds and Waterfalls, The Day Draws To A Close

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reiterating some content warnings on this one: warning for a character describing their own abuse, misgendering, intrusive thoughts, discussion of suicide attempts and of contemplation of suicide and the thoughts surrounding it, mild suicidal ideation, and discussion of self-harm and scarring.

Despite what you told Shelta, you do not go in right away, but linger for a time longer under the night sky. The stars have moved enough that you can measure them, and for a moment you think of the ornate astronomical camera you have seen on display a few times now and have had to try very hard to not show interest in, lest you find it peeking up at you in a few months' time from a pile of gaudy gift wrap.

You are ambivalent on whether to stay longer or finally go in, but unfortunately the conditions decide that for you. The clouds that for a time gave you a beautiful sight that even your simple 35mm could have captured (if you had thought to bring it) have now covered the moon that had lit them so sublimely. They will be overhead in a few minutes, so you slip back in through the window.

Undyne lies sound asleep in the bed beside you, and in the desk chair in front, Alphys is dozing quietly. Her head jerks up when you land, though, and she smiles. "Th-there you are," she whispers. "Sans took Gerson home and then went to crash in the lab. He, uh, said he doesn't want to go home when Papyrus is away on duty. So... you up for some more?"

Alphys is pretty insistent on each group having its own series that it follows, so that nobody ends up ever missing episodes or coming in mid-season. The series from the last time it was just you and her was one you dug up yourself. But, much as you are fascinated by Decim, you shudder softly.

"I... do not think I am in the best frame of mind to enjoy our current series," you confess.

Alphys kneads her tail between her hands. "You're, uh, still mad. Aren't you."

"That is not the reason." You cross the room to her, and stretch. "The themes are what worry me. It may be a bad idea for me to watch it tonight."

Alphys relaxes quickly, though she still hangs on to her tail. "Oh! Yeah, it's... kinda heavy stuff. Do you wanna do a movie instead? I'm always down for Miyazaki or Takahata. Or, uh, if you're tired, we can figure out where you're sleeping..."

You shake your head quietly. "Actually, can we go somewhere else? I have... been meaning to talk to you for a while now." You pause, and Alphys starts wringing her tail again. "About... things you, and more or less only you, can help me work through."

She relaxes again. "Oh, i-it's like that. Well, um..." She nods. "I've, um, kinda got a craving for something sweet anyway."

You instantly know what Alphys is thinking of. "Will she still be open by the time we arrive?"

Alphys nods quickly. "Y-yeah, if we go right away we'll still have plenty of time."

"Well. I will hardly ever say no to tea and some proper accompaniments." You wink at her, and make for the stairs.

There is little you really need - you already have your wallet, in case this is a night where you cannot accept someone telling you "my treat" - so you make it out to Alphys' car well before the monster who owns it. In fact, you see her pause halfway out of the door and then scamper right back inside. This leaves you some time to admire the car. Undyne's is streamlined and visibly powerful, but Alphys' is much smaller and simpler, its lack of any seats beyond the first two compensating for the decreased volume.

You find the door unlocked, and take the chance to climb into the car. It is, of course, patterned after the old Eight-Six model, but with a few tweaks. Such as the cloth top you seriously consider putting down as you recline your seat completely. (In the time you were gone, some rare sensible human made it a standard that seat belts actually be built into the seat itself, so there is no danger in spending the whole drive like this.) Still, the threat of rain is there, and you don't want Alphys to panic over the safety of her devices should it start while driving.

Alphys puts the top down anyway when she comes out - you suppose laying down like that was a bit of a giveaway - and when you motion to the media player in her hand she plonks it straight into a cup-holder and closes a lid you failed to notice before over it.

When you clear the driveway and start down the little side street where Alphys and Undyne live, Alphys clears her throat. "Do you want to start talking on the way, Chara...? It's fine if you don't! But, um, don't hold back."

You can feel the movement of the car, the slow, hesitant acceleration and the swaying of the suspension beneath you. And yet high above, the cold shining points of the stars remain still. "No," you say after a long moment. "Let's use this time to unwind, all right?" You smile. "The star interrupted me and Frisk trying to zone out with Blook earlier, after all."

That Alphys is rolling her eyes is not something you need to look at her to know. "That still never seems to work for me. I don't get it." She pauses. "But. Um! If it works for you!"

You wave a hand gently. "I took no offense. Still. I want to save it for when we get there."

Alphys says nothing in response, but reaches out to the car's central console. Replica exterior or not, the interior is packed with as much modern technology as possible, bounded only by physical volume. It is simple for her to order it to connect to her player and start playing on shuffle.

Images flow gently through your mind, coaxing your eyelids to close halfway, as the first piece plays. A driven, self-doubting young violin maker, an imaginative, dreaming young writer, a magical cat awaiting the return of his companion. Kondo deserves more appreciation. He may have only managed to make one film, but he made damned sure it was a treasure.

"When did you add this?" you murmur. Alphys has several players and is almost religious in how she divides her extensive music collection between them; the sea-green Zune replica she brought has been until now reserved for Hisaishi's complete discography.

"I mean, how could I not?" Alphys' voice lightens. "It's a beautiful movie and the music is so warm and nice and even if it's done by a different composer Yuji Numi is still part of the studio and besides did you know he helped compose for Honneamise and I had just enough room left on this thing anyway and _gosh_ it's just such a fun movie and I love how they use an American song as a leitmotif?! And the characters are so great too and Seiji is kinda cute and-"

"And it certainly does not hurt that he reminds you of Undyne?" How can you possibly help it?

"Yes!" Alphys thumps the wheel emphatically. "Well, a little. Seiji's a lot, um, calmer? But he's just so _driven_ just like Undyne is and they both have an actual goal in mind in life and they're moving towards it and here I am just sort of doing what I think I can do to earn a paycheck and..."

She thumps the wheel again and closes her mouth. "Sorry! You wanted to relax. I'll, um."

You give the very tip of her tail a tiny pinch. "This is what helps you. Don't apologize for that. But I would like to listen to the music for now, if that is all right with you."

Alphys twitches her tail out of your grip. "S-sure! I'll... try and hold it in."

Another pinch. "There's nothing wrong with it. I just could use some quiet for now."

She laughs nervously, and twitches her tail again. "I, uh, can't blame you. It's... probably been very not-quiet all day, huh? I mean, even with just Shelta you were still _talking_."

You don't reply this time, and Alphys nods and restarts the track. You can hardly blame her either, mind. You are the one who first showed that movie to her, after all. And, well. Seiji reminds you of someone as well. Someone who thinking of drives you the same way it did Shizuku. Now that you are you again, _alive_ again, you need to find a path to take as well. You cannot simply be the useless child who sleeps all day and maybe does a little knitwork or something to Etsy.

But Frisk has told you so many times that it's okay to stay as you are for a little while. Not forever, but for now. So you cut off your thoughts before you fall into a spiral like the one Alphys almost fell into, and let the music draw your eyes closed entirely.

Just after you finally pull in, the clouds start to sprinkle a little. Your first instinct is to scamper for shelter, but this is now and not then. Besides, something occurs to you that keeps you in place. You rap on the hood of the car for attention, and when Alphys looks up from raising the top, you treat her to your very best shit-eating grin. "So, tell me. Can your 'science' explain why it rains?" you intone.

This routine is an old one. Alphys picks up on it right away. "YES!" she screeches, with the perfect level of exasperation. "Yes, it can!"

You roll your eyes and turn your attention to the building behind you. The apparent age of the wooden construction is deceptive - the owner is fairly skilled at what you insist on calling glamour even if that isn't the name monsters actually give that kind of magic. A long, half-roofed porch sprawls out in front of what looks like a proper Georgian-style house... albeit with very clearly Doric pillars supporting the overhang. (When in Rome... 's predecessor?) Of course, the inside is quite different. And you are fairly certain violet and lavender were not common paint colors for antebellum housing. Nor webbing painted in pale ice-blue highlights a common decoration.

You check your pocketwatch. (Frisk wears one when they're acting as ambassador, because they sometimes rival Asri for sheer dorkdom, and bought you a matching one a little while before everyone brought you back.) The hand ticks up to a quarter before the hour as you look, and when you glance at Alphys she nods and waves, so you slip inside.

The first floor is given over entirely to a cafe. Tables are distributed around the open space, with a fair amount of distance between one another, and booth seating lines the walls. A few have a thick, curling mat of white silk attached to at least one of the seats - this is there primarily for patrons with pressure sensitivity, like Frisk. But the booth you want is one of the ones where the silk is a warm, thick curtain that can easily be closed up. Mostly because the silk around these booths is a special weave pioneered (and even patented) by the owner that can block out sound and leave patrons in near-perfect privacy.

And speaking of the owner, you can hear her skittering up from the bakery below. She pauses as she pops up behind the counter, and smiles warmly at you. "Ah, you're here! Alphys did say she was bringing a guest."

"Hello, Muffet," you reply politely. Wary, but polite. Part of you has never trusted the spider-like monster after learning her reasons for attacking Frisk. Especially since she made it fairly clear she never actually knew who she had promised to sell their soul to.

Still, this is her home that you have entered, and you know perfectly well that it was not about the money - it is never the _money_ , per se, that Muffet concerns herself with, but what can be done _with_ it. And besides... the moment that telegram arrived, detailing Frisk's kindness and their repeated donations to the spiders who lived in Home, Muffet had stopped. She is not malicious - at least, not to those who have shown her no malice.

Muffet clasps two of her hands together, while the other four busy themselves arranging newly-baked pastries in the case. (Magic will keep them warm and fresh-from-the-oven for tomorrow's morning customers.) "I wasn't expecting you, however. Have you been well, Chara?"

"I exist." You shrug gently. "Alphys and I need a quiet, private space to speak. And your handiwork would be a welcome accompaniment."

"Ahuhuhu." Muffet laughs behind a hand. "I can certainly provide those things. Just let me know when you need me to close the weave."

"So. How fares your business?" Alphys is going to be busy for a bit; you may as well make some civil conversation.

Muffet has turned by now to tend to the kettle, and for a moment you let yourself watch her many arms reaching for all the various things she needs for her current task. When you start imagining a cafe run by Kamaji, however, you know you've let your mind drift a little _too_ far. "Things are going well," she says with a light nod. "There aren't many lodgers just at present, but it is a rather slow part of the year."

You nod. The second floor is given over to rooms for rent, barring a space overlooking the porch that Muffet has reserved for herself.

"Still," she adds, "The repairs set us back somewhat, but we were able nonetheless to send a very nice donation out to those brave _medicines_ on the first."

"Again?" You clench one fist until you can feel the nails press into your palm. "I apologize."

Muffet glances back, and shakes her head. "I hardly blame or feel entitled to an apology from you for the actions of beastly humans whose viewpoints on monsters you very clearly and deeply do not share. Please, Chara. You did not come to my cafe for such things."

The door bumps open, saving you the need to argue your position. Muffet blinks, and skitters lightly around the counter and across the space. "Dear, dear, I didn't even realize it had begun to rain..." She bows politely to Alphys and promptly tosses a towel over her that you never saw her pick up.

You should have thought of that. Of course she would have gotten soaked after struggling so long with the car. But no, you paid her no mind. Typical of you. _Human_ of you, even.

Muffet holds out a hand, but you shake your head, and she nods and gestures to a booth nearby. Alphys untangles herself carefully from the towel and hops into a seat eagerly. By the time you pick your way over and settle down, Muffet has returned with a tray of pastries. She smiles, and takes hold of the webbing curtain. "I'll bring you both something good once the kettle is ready," she promises. "Just pull the string if you need anything before then, dearies. Ahuhuhu." Then the curtain closes, and Muffet's deft hands make sure it _stays_ closed.

Cliche as it might be, you really do not realize you were holding your breath until you let it out upon the web closing. Alphys is quiet save for impulsive tapping of her claws against her tail. "So..."

Alphys nods, but she holds herself in. But Alphys is wound tight most days as it is, and there is no cause to wind her any tighter. "You likely have some idea of what this is all about."

"Er." Alphys nods again more quickly. "I have some guesses? But I don't think it's a good idea to jump to conclusions. That only really works for making conflict in a story."

"How many episodes use that one?" you ask, and rest your chin on your hands as you give her a perfect smile.

Alphys grumbles under her breath. "Eight. Eleven if you count people jumping to conclusions _about_ Mew-Mew. And only counting the first series. But you get the p-point, right?"

"You know about this kind of feeling better than anyone else I know, Alphys," is your response. "It has been worrying me for... honestly, a few days now. Just about as long as I had known that Frisk was going out of the country for the long weekend."

Alphys nods slowly. "Chara... take your time. R-really, I mean it."

She may say that, but there is little reason to postpone. "I am... not trusting of myself right now. I find myself... daydreaming about things, even fondly, that I should not be. Reflecting on things that are not healthy to dwell on. Pondering whether perhaps it would be better if certain things came to pass. I want to talk to you about these things. I worry about what it might mean."

Alphys sucks on a claw. "So... Chara. Tell me something, since you're w-worried. Are you... p-planning on actually _a-acting_ on any of your thoughts?"

That is the difficult part. "No. This is not about hurting myself." You slide up your sleeve for a long moment so that she can see there are no fresh marks. Only old ones. "I would not be speaking in private to you alone if I felt that I wanted - no, needed - that. But what I do feel is worrying in its own way."

Alphys sucks in her breath as she looks over your arm. "Ch-chara, you don't ever have to show me your arm like that. I k-know you hate even thinking about it."

"I deserve no less." Your voice is airy as you roll down your sleeve. "If I feel disgust, that is only what should be felt by a person who does disgusting things."

Alphys shakes her head. "O-okay. So. What... what _do_ you feel, Chara? If you don't want to h-h-h... if you don't want to do _that_ to yourself..."

How to explain... well, perhaps you should simply spit it out. The words, that is, not the pastry you started nibbling on. You find it hard to bring yourself to waste even bad food, let alone something as pleasant as Muffet's cooking. "I keep finding myself imagining myself back inside of Frisk's soul. Wishing I were still there. Wanting to curl up in their heart and never, ever leave."

Alphys is quiet for a long while. "Well," she finally says, "what about what you'd have to... y'know, _do_ to be back there? If that would even work?"

"... no." You frown. "I talked to Frisk earlier. We were signing. I promised them that I was not thinking of killing myself." You pause, remembering. "I... hung up and changed over to video call just so I could sign that promise to them."

"Really?" Alphys scratches at her frill. "Er, why go to all the trouble? Why not just say it?"

Alphys only knows a little sign herself, far less than Undyne, so perhaps it is unsurprising. "Neither Frisk nor I will ever tell a lie when we use sign," you explain quietly. "We both made a promise, independently. Frisk to Shelta, who taught them, and me to... well, I have reason to believe mine was to Aster."

The name makes your head hurt slightly when you say it, as your brain automatically tries to search out memories it can no longer reach. To her credit, Alphys recovers her own composure quickly. "So you aren't hurting yourself, and you can honestly promise Frisk you're not thinking of k-killing yourself either." She nods. "I get why you're worried? But honestly I think you're fine."

Your only reply to _that_ is to arch an expertly plucked eyebrow. (Frisk likes to practice on you, on days you enjoy their touch.) You? Fine?

Alphys taps her claws together. "W-well, y-you know what I mean!" She takes a sharp breath. "You're worried it means you're g-going downhill. Right?"

"How could it not?" You glance down to see your hands shaking. "After everything Frisk went through, and everything Kythra and the others gave up for my and Asri's sake, how could it not be a warning sign that I would even consider throwing it all away and going back?"

"B-but you're not going to!" Alphys sits up just a little straighter; a familiar passion is in her eyes. "Ch-chara, look, I know you're angry, but... but you're not really gonna do it. And it's... it's normal to think and feel like this sometimes. Really! I mean, this is why you come to me..."

Because she knows. But still. "I cannot see how there is anything _normal_ about wanting to give up separate existence and live out my time anchored to Frisk."

Alphys flushes slightly. "I mean! It's not hard to see why?!" She takes a breath. "Chara, you were living with Frisk like that for almost two years. Of course you'd be used to that. And, I mean, there are certain advantages to being just a soul! Like being able to hide when you're worked up, or being able to keep anyone from ever touching you. It... didn't it feel _safe_ for you, Chara? Being kept and taken care of by someone you love?"

You find yourself without a response, and Alphys barely gives you time to realize this before she presses on. "I mean, good grief, if I could just sort of hide behind Undyne all the time... only having to act like the world exists if I wanted to, and even then just through her..." She kneads her tail in both hands. "And you actually got to live that. It's totally normal to miss what you had, sometimes."

"Perhaps that is it, after all." A bitter chuckle escapes your lips, and a beatific smile spreads across your face. "I'm such a fucking coward, aren't I?"

_There_. It gives such elation, at times, to see how others react when you let your mask crack and the real you ooze through the breach. The expression on Alphys' face is virtually sublime.

Then she leans forward, and her tail slips out of her own grasp to lay itself in front of you. (Frisk loves the texture of her scales, even if they do little for you.) "I mean. You're not exactly alone in that, even if you are." She pauses. "N-not that I think you are, either! But if you're insisting on calling yourself that. I mean. If any of us knows about being a coward, it's me."

The rising elation falls suddenly and utterly flat. Something twists in you so vividly it almost becomes a physical sensation. "I am sorry."

Alphys shakes her head quickly. "I d-don't want you feeling sorry, I want you feeling better! L-like you're not, um. Alone? That's why you wanted to talk to me, i-isn't it? Me specifically, that is."

"I did." Your voice trembles. For a moment, the ghost of your old injury wraps across your neck, and you press your hand to remind you that the skin there is no longer blemished with scar. "But that is... that is not cause to make you remember that."

Alphys shakes her head even more emphatically. "I'm, um, actually trying very very hard not to remember anything about that day!" Her voice rushes wildly out, unbroken. "B-but it did happen! And if reminding you and me that it did helps, th-then!"

Even if only for a moment, you touch her tail. "I understand."

She takes a long breath. "Anyway. Missing how things were with you and Frisk isn't being a coward. It was something special! Something good and safe and close in a way that you were comfortable being close to someone in! S-so! There's nothing bad about just missing it."

_Just_ missing it? Hm. "There are... other things that are worrying me," you say quietly.

Alphys nods quickly. "W-well, let's hear it. But still, Chara. You _promised_ to Frisk and to me that you don't want to hurt yourself. I think you should let yourself believe in your own promise."

Even you would never break your vow to Frisk. Right? "Well." You cram a not-insignificant portion of pastry into your mouth to excuse a brief pause. "You know that I was visiting the Underground today."

Alphys' nod is a formality. She lives with Undyne, she knows that she drove out to the foot of Mt. Ebott and why. "I took Shelta to see Home, as well. But I left him behind for a while to visit..." You take a long breath. "My grave," you finally exhale.

Alphys blinks slowly at that. "Your, um... huh?"

Right. This is hardly common dinner-table conversation. "After Asriel and I died," you dryly explain. "The first time, centuries ago. After _he_ killed Peloche, Toriel took my body from its coffin and buried me in the place I first fell into the Underground. Where every human thereafter did so."

Alphys' eyes widen. "The flower patch? That's, um... your old body is buried under there?"

"What remains of it." Frisk would be better equipped to answer just how much of it _does_ remain. "There is a reason we needed so much determination. But we were talking of my actions now, not the day I destroyed the kingdom's hope."

Alphys doesn't even bother trying to correct you. She lived her whole life in the Underground that your actions created. "All right. So. You went out of your way - way out of your way, actually?! - to visit the place where Toriel buried you after you and the prince, er, visited the Surface." She scratches her frill. "So, um, why did you want to go there?"

You can't help but blink. There is no sign of judgment or incredulity in Alphys' voice. She sounds a bit like the therapist Toriel implored you to speak with did - inquisitive and seeking to understand you. (At first, anyhow. The second session went somewhat predictably; Toriel agreed to there not being a third.)

"I..." How do you explain this? How do you speak without utterly destroying her neutrality, as you did his?

Then again, perhaps you should break Alphys of a stance you do not deserve her taking. "I felt... content, there. Grounded, perhaps? Comforted, even. I... am uncertain as to why."

Alphys taps a claw against her tail. "Do you, um, have any guesses? I... s-sorry if I'm wrong, but this is totally the kind of thing you'd have already tried to talk to Frisk about, isn't it?"

Well. She is not wrong. "I did. And to Asri, when he saw the picture and decided to poke his snout into my personal business uninvited." You grit your teeth. "I could not make him understand. He tried, briefly, to command me."

Alphys shakes her head. "I have _got_ to get Undyne to t-teach him to be a better, uh, boyfriend," she mumbles, and you laugh despite yourself. "I'm serious! That's not how you should..."

You hold up a finger. "I made very, very certain that he knows that." You let a placid smile spread across your face until Alphys laughs nervously. "As for guesses. I think that, well... visiting my grave, somehow, proves that I really am alive again now. That everything I have gone through since the day Asriel and I died really did happen."

"Have you been dissociating again, Chara?" Alphys leans gently towards you.

"Not today," you answer, because that's true. "It wasn't an episode that sent me there. But, well... it still proves difficult to believe. Even with magic, even with the power of seven human souls concentrated in their loving hands..."

Alphys nods. "Well, you helped too. Your soul being so resilient meant it wasn't too hard for you to get your new body working and alive."

Resilient. You bite back the instinct to contradict her, because in point of fact Alphys is _right_. Your soul continued to exist, despite your death, for over a century. Unprotected, unaided, alone save for five fallen humans whose determination you latched on to until they, too, met their ends.

"Even so," you say with a long sigh, and an idle nibble of warm, perfectly flakey pastry shell. "I worry. I cannot possibly pretend that lingering over a grave, or thinking longingly of being just a soul clinging to Frisk again, is normal."

Alphys nods slowly. "No, I understand. But... it might be more normal than you think." She pauses. "A-and even if you think that's ridiculous to say, just because something's not normal doesn't mean it's _bad_. It just means you have a different way of coping."

A bell rings gently over you, and you tap the web in response. Muffet parts the curtain to lean in, smiling, and sets a mug in front of each of you. "There you are, dearies." She gives a soft yawn. "I think I'll be turning in for the night soon. If you need any last things, please let me know now."

"That is entirely reasonable." You smile. "But I think I will be fine. Alphys and I simply want to talk a while longer."

Alphys glances up from blowing on her coffee. "A-as long as you're fine with us hanging out here?"

Muffet laughs softly. "I see no reason I shouldn't trust the two of you. Do try not to forget to leave a donation, though, won't you dearies? Ahuhuhu." With another laugh, she withdraws and closes you both in again.

(Muffet doesn't deal in tips; instead she "encourages" her customers to leave small gratuities that are treated as direct donations. Not that Muffet would use tips in the same shady way as human business owners invariably do, but you do appreciate that she simply pays her servers a regular wage.)

Alphys is quivering, just a little. She takes a sizable swig of coffee. "S-so!"

"Go on." You pause. "If you feel comfortable doing so."

Alphys wrings her tail a little. "You, uh, can guess, huh." She clears her throat. "It's just, well... I have done a little reading about this. Mostly stories shared by other people who've... considered what we both have."

That is hardly surprising. You and Alphys could only start talking about this after you were brought back. And while Undyne is wonderful, you cannot see Alphys confiding in her about things like this. She would see it as an imposition as much as you would, as a drag on her cheery, energetic heart.

Alphys sighs, and starts wringing her tail so hard you almost tell her to stop. "Chara, I... I know this is personal? But, um... if you feel like you can say it, I... I want to ask you something. I think it'll help." She draws in a long breath. "When, um. When you were standing on Mount Ebott, looking into that hole. What... what was going through your mind?"

The laughter escapes you without a hint of struggle. "That's simple," you gasp out amid the sounds. "' _I want to die._ '"

Alphys wrings her tail even harder. You can see a little dribble of dust under one claw.

When your laughter peters out, you draw a long breath. "I imagine there were other, minor things as well. I recall wanting to fade along with the star whose name I stole, and being frustrated when I found that I had dozed off until past dawn. Silly, romantic ideals that in no way took away from the fact that I had decided that I wanted to die, and would do so by hurling myself to the ground below."

Alphys nods, and winces as she lets go of her tail. She glances at the dust. "U-um... s-sorry."

You tap your left arm. "I am in no position to complain."

"I-it's not like you do it in front of me!" Alphys takes a long breath again. "But, um. Th-thank you for being honest with me. So... the reason I asked that is because I wanted to ask another question." She pauses for a long moment. "Chara... do you feel that way now?"

"No." The answer comes so readily to you, so absent of any reflection, that it startles you. "No, I... I do not."

Alphys nods more confidently now. "And, um. I've asked a lot of you already, so you don't have to tell me, but... what about when you decided to, um, poison yourself? Do you feel... like you did back then?"

"Back then, I was 'the hope of humans and monsters'," you remind her quietly. "I no longer bear that burden. And even I do not feel I deserve further punishment for what I did to Asgore"

Alphys smiles nervously. "Then... I don't think you need to feel like any of this is a bad sign. I mean, talk to me as much as you want?! You wanting to talk to me like this about something so private is still so amazing. But! What I mean to say is! It's all right to feel that way sometimes, and I want you to be able to feel like that's true."

_"I-I'm still not sure why you want to talk to me of all people about this. I mean! I'm flattered, really! I'm just not sure what I can do that's so special."_

"Some things never change," you murmur playfully, and for a moment Alphys' frill raises. "But you know why I talk to you, and you in specific."

_"Alphys. This is something that you understand. It is something you have gone through, like I have, and that I trust you to keep private. That is why I want us to support each other. I would likely opine here about how likely it is that I will be able to help, but... you are probably thinking much the same about your own abilities. Your understanding, Alphys, that is what you can contribute."_

Alphys nods sheepishly. "Yeah. Still, whatever the reason, it feels... nice."

Well, you can hardly deny that was part of the reason as well. "You have such confidence that what worries me is not dangerous. I feel as if you have a reason you are so sure."

Her laugh is even more sheepish. "That's, um, true! See, the thing is..." She touches her claws together. "I've gone through the same thing. I've been back to the waterfall too, you know."

... you have no need to ask which waterfall. "Alphys..." You draw a slow breath. "... you asked me, so I feel to ask in return is only fair. But please do not take that as obliging you to answer."

"You're, uh, one to talk about feeling obliged." Alphys scratches her cheek. "But no. If you're gonna be brave and talk... and you can't support me if I don't, right?" She sighs. "Back then, standing at that waterfall? Before Undyne showed up and t-talked me out of it?"

She remains silent for so long that you finally nod. "It's fine, Alphys. You are allowed to have boundaries, and ones differing from my own."

"Well." Alphys nods. "I do remember just... staring down there. Thinking about it. We... I mean, even to this day nobody knows what's down there. There could be... anything, you know?"

"And at the very least, it would be somewhere besides where you were?"

Alphys takes a long breath. "That's... that's exactly it. I didn't want to be there. I... I had no _right_ to be there. It's..." She drains the rest of her coffee in a single long sip. "It's not that I wanted specifically to die? I don't th-think? But that waterfall was... was the only way to leave the kingdom. And I would've... yeah, I would've been fine with it if taking that exit meant I'd be... gone."

"Thank you, Alphys." You take a long sip of your tea. "I feel like I still do not understand, though. Why would you go back? I know you no longer feel like you want to escape. And I doubt that you still consider death an acceptable outcome."

Alphys nods vigorously. "Right. I don't go there because I'm thinking of jumping off. That'd be ideation, and I'd like to think I'd keep my promise and tell you if I did!" She pauses, and takes a few deep breaths. "Part of it is just comparing, I guess? I... I think back to how I felt back then, and... and I think of myself now, and it's... It's nice! Seeing that I'm... I'm not who I was back then. And, well..."

She's quiet again for a long moment, and scratches her frill. "I guess what I'm trying to say is, it's.. sometimes, it's just nice to know..."

"Know what...?" You rest your cup in your hands, focusing a little on the warmth.

Alphys scratches her frill again. "To know... that I'm not 'trapped' or anything. If I... if I did ever want to escape, if I made up my mind that, well..." She shakes her head. "What I mean! Is! That I'm alive because I choose to be alive! That it's a choice I'm always making! That I'm choosing it instead of, um, the alternative!"

Not trapped. Choice. Autonomy, in a word. "And being a soul anchored to Frisk is my 'alternative'?" you ask.

Alphys nods. "I mean! I can't exactly know your mind! But what you're saying sounds a lot like my own experiences with going back there. And, well... there's a lot of people who've experienced the same thing. It's all... just part of recovery. And it's okay! Really!"

You nod slowly, and close your eyes. "I am alive... because _I_ choose to be alive. I like that."

Your hands hurt, very slightly, and you take a sip of tea and set it down. Muffet is the only one besides you and your father (who time has made no less of a virtuoso of tea) who appreciates loose leaf. Even Toriel and Frisk frequently fall to the tyranny of bagged tea. Thankfully, this is a more refined establishment. Maybe you should come alone next time and just spend some time talking tea with Muffet. If nothing else, you are curious where she learned. Asgore, perhaps?

Alphys says nothing. Instead, you both relax, content and reflecting. This was a good talk.

Both of your phones suddenly alert their owners to a text - Alphys' with a snip of the theme from the only thing anyone remembers Bentsnout Crumplehorn for anymore, yours with a brief jingle from an old pomeranian-related DS game whose antagonist you feel just a little camaraderie with. You nod to each other and check as one; sure enough it's the same message for you both.

**thanks for the note. and putting it somewhere i couldn't miss it.**

You glance at Alphys - this must have been why she went back. And, indeed, she catches your eye and mouths "taped to his forehead". You snicker as quietly as you can manage; that certainly ensures he would see it.

Another text comes in.  **sentiment's appreciated, really. but i'm fine. might've even overdone the whole 'around people' thing. some 'me' time is prolly a good thing.**

A sentiment you yourself are quite familiar with. Alphys has that look she always develops when she thinks she's slighted someone by guessing wrongly what their needs are.

**also, tomorrow night's wide open for me. can only speak for me, but i'm totally on board.**

_Excellent_. And the fact that she brought it up in the note means Alphys must want to as well. You've got a movie or two already picked out. Or you could bring out the big guns, although you fear the three of you facing _that_ wretched reel alone.

**you guys take whatever time you need. i'll be here when you're done donating to muffet's latest project. spectrum self-advocacy network, isn't it?**

"You were worried he would get lonely?"

Alphys shifts in her seat. "I mean... his family's away too."

You two remain more alike than you guess. One last message comes in.

**unless undyne wakes up. i'll be hiding in the lab if that happens. like i said, quiet's prolly a good thing for me right now.**

You shake your head. **Feel free to join us if you do find yourself wanting company. We are more or less finished talking, but neither of us feels they want to leave just yet.**

Sans' reply is the expected simple return of, **okay. enjoy your tea.** You turn your attention back to Alphys, who seems to have puffed up under her frill. "Actually! Sans bringing up the lab made me remember something." She taps her claws together. "You went down, right?"

"We, technically," you affirm. "Shelta followed after me. I even introduced him to them. Still, no reply that I could perceive. No change."

Alphys nods. "About that. It's true that there's no change you or I can perceive. But what about a change that something else could?"

It's obvious what Alphys is aiming to convey. "But what can you measure that would tell you the condition of a soul?"

Alphys nods. "It's a concept that your field depends on, actually. Luminosity!"

... oh, of _course_. "And spectroscopy, presumably?"

"Oh!" Alphys scratches her frill. "I'm... not sure the wavelength would change, actually. But we can try!" She pauses. "Actually... yeah, if we compare the amplitude of the soul's associated wavelength to the rest... I mean, the relative closeness must be why they all are so close to white in color, right...?"

A grin spreads across your face. "Do me a favor? Compare the spectrum to a hypothetical black body, let's say... 310.15 Kelvin?"

Alphys coughs. "Oh. My. God. Imagine if that really were the case?" She clearly recognizes the significance, and she splutters. "And that. Wouldn't that make the spike of color the soul's analogue to an emission line?"

You nod, and gaze down into your cup for a long moment, watching the leaves swirl beneath the strainer as you stir. "So. You've started measuring the intensity of the souls' light. No doubt inspired by the dimness of my own compared to Shelta's or Frisk's soul. And what have you found?"

Alphys nods quickly. "Sans and I built a light-blocking chamber and affixed a photometer to each inside face. We've been measuring illuminance for Kythra's soul twice daily for about a week. It's, um, still only about fifty nox, but..."

That makes sense, honestly. The moon at its best is a few hundred nox; even tonight, far from full and with cloud cover, it would outshine the souls of the other fallen humans. "But?"

Alphys nods. "But it's been increasing! Consistently! The light level's about five nox higher than when we started, even."

Your body feels... light, somehow. But also incredibly tired. You lean, almost boneless, against the table. "They are growing brighter." You pause. "And... the rate must be increasing, even. If you extrapolate such a rate back..."

Alphys nods. "Exactly. It's been more than ten or eleven weeks, and they certainly didn't start at _zero_ nox. They weren't ever totally dark, just... very weakly shining."

Your forehead touches the cool glass. They are getting stronger. Recovering. And doing so _faster_ now than before.

The two of you leave Muffet's a few minutes later, deeply satisfied with the evening. You stay silent on the way back, but as you near the turn that would bring you towards Toriel's house, you nudge Alphys wordlessly. She nods with equally many words and turns.

There are only a few things you really want. Toriel already helped you pack for the weekend, and Sans brought over your suitcase this morning. But the night sky reminded you that you left your camera behind, and, well. Poor coping strategy that you are certain it is, you stand for a long while in Frisk's room. Their easel stands sentinel as always, but its front surface bears only a handful of strokes, too early in progress to appreciate, so you can only close your eyes and feel their presence here.

In your own room, the wardrobe stands open still. You toy with the idea of changing out one of your outfits, but then you realize that the clothes are still parted somewhat, and see the garment that hangs on the back wall.

A thought seizes you, and you call to Alphys not to follow you into your room as you draw the garment out. A moment passes, and your clothes are laid over the footboard, and... there you stand.

You stare at yourself in the mirror for a long time. This is what you could have been, once. You only ever call yourself a princet as a joke these days, or to tease Asri, but there was a time when you really were Princet Chara. Someone who not only held the title on a technicality (and on reflection, you still do), but someone who believed in that and wore it with pride. Someone who believed they really belonged.

Did you ever wear this, you wonder. It almost seems too good for you. You introduced yourself to monsterkind wearing brown jeans and a sweater you borrowed from Asriel. But you suppose you could ask your father - no, ask Toriel. Asgore carries enough weight without seeing you in royal dress.

You can barely hear the hesitant rap at the door. When you say nothing, Alphys peeks in through a crack. Then she pushes into the room, wide-eyed. "Ch-chara, _wow_..."

"I take it you like it." You turn slowly this way and that so Alphys can look as much as she wants. This, at least, you were used to long before you first saw the mountain.

"I-it's incredible! _You're_ incredible!" Alphys scoots a little closer, rising up on the tips of her toes. "I-I had no idea you had robes of your own. They look like you belong wearing them..."

"I am... flattered you think so." Are you blushing? Good grief. "Unfortunately, I am not sure I will be able to wear it after all."

Alphys blinks. "Is something... wrong?"

You turn to look at the mirror again. They are beautiful. Too beautiful for you.

Alphys shifts, and her tail thumps against your bed. "I, um... I don't know if this is helpful, but... but I think you have a right to them."

You smile. "So they tell me. I could maybe even let myself believe it. But there is another problem." You turn your eyes down. The hem of the robe just about touches the deep, fluffy carpet. The way it swishes is familiar. You can faintly hear jeers, feel your fist impacting against cloth and flesh.

"I-is, uh. Is..." Alphys swallows. "Is this something to do with why we never see you in cute dresses or skirts like Frisk wears sometimes?"

"Yeah." You turn again, tear your eyes from your skirt - no, your _robe_ , this is not female clothing, the Dreemurrs would never force you into that - and force the memories out of your mind. "When I..." You swallow. You can hear echoes again, this time of yelling, of fury at your effrontery, of denial of what you know you are. "Well. You know that I am... neither male nor female. You have been wonderful about accepting that part of me. Everyone has. But knowing who I am, and being accepted for it..."

Alphys nods. "Well, yeah. Lots of people go through that - look at MK, h-he's still not sure if he _is_ a he, or if he's a they like you, or even..." She breaks off, and grabs her tail in her claws. "U-um! Chara, this... this isn't about your, um. Your... birth parents. Is it?"

You nod silently, allowing her the chance to say her piece. "Well!" she exclaims. "Then... then forget I asked. Me being a big stupid too-curious lizardbrain shouldn't be an excuse for making you think about them! Th-they're long gone anyway, s-so... wh-who cares?"

She means well, so you touch the tip of her frill instead of glaring her into silence. "I care," you say simply. "You are right that my birth parents are dead. Dead for many, many years. They can never harm me again." Perhaps that is why you _can_ talk about them. Because they _cannot_ lay a hand on you ever again. "But that does not erase the harm they had done already. And that harm is relevant to now."

Alphys sighs. "I'm sorry. I know you hate thinking about them. I d-don't want to make you think of them more than you have to."

Another finger against her frill. "When I thought I finally understood who I was, I made the mistake of telling them. For that mistake, I was ridiculed, and then punished for daring to assert that I, a _child_ , could possibly have an existence beside the one they, the infinitely wise adults, had decreed."

Decreed. Hah. What better word for him? You can see him, for a moment, in his office, machine parts and electrical components scattered on his desk and the hardwood before it, his coat-of-arms looming over the scene. His back is, mercifully, to you, and when he starts to give an order, a force of will tears his words so harshly that they dissolve into blissful static even as he speaks them.

The image fades, and you are left with an intensely curious frilled reptilian monster who is chewing on her own tail in a bid to keep herself from asking the things that make her curious. It falls to you to show that she is allowed to. "When I was born..."

You have to take a breath. Nobody knows this but Frisk, and presumably Toriel - there was no time to worry about modesty with the shape your fall left you in - but how can you explain otherwise? "They... they called me a boy," you finally squeeze out. "When I asserted I was not, their response was to prove I was not a girl. And of course, they set out to do so by humiliating me into accepting their twisted argument."

The taunts in your ears are mercifully faint. _They_ were barely worth remembering. Your memories of them were never physical in nature - for the most part, at least. "You are wondering how," you push on, because Alphys is _still_ chewing the end of her tail. "The answer is... simpler than you might imagine. They simply... forced me to live as one. And to bear every last ounce of ridicule that would bring me."

"Live as..." Alphys' eyes go wide. "D-don't tell me... your clothes, they didn't..."

"Long, pleated skirts, pastel buttoned blouses, elbow-length gloves, sunhats, floor-length dresses, _petticoats..."_ You spit the last word, literally in fact. "The very night I proved I am clinically insane by coming out to my birth parents, I found my dresser hastily stuffed with nothing but such things."

"Chara, I, uh..."

"I know." You ball your fists, and stare pointedly at the painted stars Frisk has steadily been coating the ceiling of your room with. "I know, and I apologize, but what other word suits? How can I possibly claim that telling them was the act of someone of sound mind?"

"Because I've known you for years, Chara." Alphys adjusts her glasses. "I mean. I can't exactly claim to be perfectly neurotypical myself. We've both got problems! That doesn't mean we're insane. Not in the way you meant it."

She's right, and you don't press the issue. "It was all I wore for months. And of course, I felt hideous in it. _She_ took to compounding the issue by re-introducing me to everyone as her _daughter_. It was... awful. Still, I suppose it helped prove one half of what I wondered about myself." Your laugh is about sixty percent genuine. "I'm not a girl. And wearing a dress, or a skirt, or even a robe that feels like them, reminds me of _why_ I know that I'm not."

Alphys looks you up and down for a long moment. "You, um, didn't pick out any of it, did you?"

You blink. "You didn't pick out that dress."

Alphys shakes her head. "No, b-but I was there! Sure, Mettaton picked it out, b-but I approved! It was my call, and he made sure I knew that!" She shakes her head rapidly. "My p-point is! Of course you wouldn't look good in stuff someone else picked out! Especially people who c-clearly don't like you or know anything about you!"

"... is this you talking, or Pareil?" you tease as gently as you can. Honestly, there is something _nice_ about Alphys not only being passionate, but passionate about _you_ , something that does not wane no matter how frequently she gets this way.

Alphys pouts. "I mean it! Just look at you now, in clothes people who love had made for you!"

You can't help it. "Demon are rarely good at seeing nice things with their ugly blood-hued eyes. What do you see, when you look at me now?"

Alphys rolls her eyes, just a little, and really you deserve that for bringing up your eyes at a time like this. "You're _beautiful_ , Chara, that's what I see!"

A cough escapes you. You are certain you are blushing, and far more than your usual easy-to-provoke way. "You... want to take me shopping, do you not."

Alphys taps her claws together. "W-well, yes, but it's probably not something you want..."

You're both interrupted by the soft tones of your phone. An old, old monster song that you sang to Frisk at one absolutely crucial time. "Hello, Toriel," you murmur as you thumb the screen.

Toriel's voice is warm. "Good evening, Chara. I will endeavor not to keep you long. You are, after all, no doubt preparing for bed." Her voice grows louder, and you can almost imagine her perfect, pleasant smile. "That is the case, is it not, Doctor Alphys?"

Alphys blanches. "Y-yes, ma'am!" she stammers out. "W-we're just, um. We're going right back after this!"

You shake your head and chuckle softly. "What Alphys means is that we stopped to pick up something I neglected to bring with me this morning. I... needed to speak with her for a while, and we decided to do so over tea and pastries. We are on the way back to her house at the moment."

In your mind's eye, Toriel shakes her head. "I see. Well, I can hardly blame either of you for that. Is there... anything you wish to confide in me about?"

"Thank you, but no." You sigh. "I have... left myself vulnerable enough as it is this evening. And besides, we had a very good talk. I feel... far more calm and secure now."

Toriel's voice softens. "I am very proud of how well you managed today," she says. "But please, be sure to rest tomorrow if you need to. I do not want you to hurt yourself."

"You have been speaking with Shelta, I take it. He told me much the same." Well, of course she has. "If I decide I can do nothing tomorrow but curl up down in the lab with Alphys, Sans, and some truly awful black-and-white movies, I will accept that."

Toriel laughs softly in your ear. "I miss you dearly, Chara. We all do. You may need to prepare yourself for a surfeit of attention when we return."

"You just focus on your diplomacy, and leave the self-care of this ridiculous teenager to me," you counter, with a slight snicker of your own.

Then you pause. "There... actually is one thing i want to ask. Would you mind terribly changing to a video call?"

"Of course not." Toriel pauses. "Is anything wrong?"

You look down at yourself. "No. But... you may wish to prepare yourself. What I want to ask may bring up... some very old memories. In fact, it is because you have those memories that I want to ask it."

"I will prepare myself," Toriel promises, and hangs up. You steel yourself for a long moment before placing the call.

Alphys gently takes the phone and holds it for you as Toriel picks up. As her image comes in, she gasps softly. "Chara..."

You turn hesitantly for her, nodding slowly. "I... felt a little nostalgic tonight."

Toriel frowns. "While wearing that, you worry about _me_ being triggered? Chara..."

Deep breaths. Force away the voices whose owners are long dead. "I know. I... wanted to try wearing it again. Alphys has been very helpful in bolstering me, but I will be changing out of it once we finish speaking." You take a breath. "But first, I wanted to ask something."

More relaxed now, Toriel is able to take in the sight and smile honestly. "That does bring back very old memories," she concurs. "Not ones that upset me, mind, but I thank you for being aware that they might."

"It is those memories I need to probe," you explain quietly. "I... wanted to ask something."

Deep breaths. Remember monsters, not humans. "I know that I wore my old clothes when I was presented to the monsters of Home. I remember Asriel encouraging me to change out of these and be myself, and to be comfortable. But..."

Deep breaths. Hold your locket. "Toriel, did I... was there ever a time I could wear these? Back then, when I lived with all of you, could I wear this beautiful garb without having to remember?"

Toriel is silent for a long moment. She even closes her eyes. "I have seen you in those clothes before, yes," she says quietly. "A few important events of state where you insisted. Once or twice when Asriel's private insistence got to you. Without remembering? That, I have a much harder time of believing."

A soft, weak laugh leaves your lips. "So. I never did get over it?"

Toriel's eyes are firm. "Chara, do not think for an instant that what those people did to you is something to 'get over', or that not doing so is a failing on your part."

"Even if I want to?" you ask. Your voice sounds so desperate, its grip on not continuing to laugh tenuous. "Even if I want to be able to wear the clothes you chose for me with such care?"

_Chose_. Something flickers at the edge of your thoughts. Toriel's smile returns. "It is still not a failing. But I am well aware of that desire as well. I could see it in you every time you made yourself wear your royal robes." She chuckles. "You very much wanted to _look_ the part of 'Princet Chara'."

"Well," you note, " _Oblige_ was something I grew up with. One of the few things from _them_ that I did not want to reject."

"In any case," Toriel says softly. "You did wear them, sometimes. But it always seemed as if you were forcing yourself to, even if you only rarely needed me to tend to you afterwards."

Deep breaths. Think of something other than sharp, bright pain. Your right hand seizes firmly on the other wrist. "I apologize."

Toriel smiles gently. "You are forgiven, as you ever will be," she murmurs. "I love you. Still, as sweet a memory as it is to see you like this again, I suggest you change out of them again. I know that expression very well, and I do not wish for you to put yourself through old trauma for the sake of a silly old lady's silly old memories."

"There is nothing silly about you, Toriel," you murmur softly.

"Of course there is." A smirk crosses her face, and Alphys winces in preparation. "If I were not, I would not be about to tell you to make like a vinaigrette and dress!"

You groan, slam your forehead into your palm, and burst into snickers. In that order. Somewhere along the line, you hear Alphys howl "OH MY GOD" in her best unintentional impression of Papyrus, and feel her press the phone into your palm. You smirk into it. "Keep that up and the next beverage I make for you shall be a very stiff penal-tea."

Toriel howls with laughter, while Alphys tries very hard to pretend that she is somewhere else. When she calms down, Toriel shakes her head. "I have kept you long enough," she says. "Please, go and get some sleep."

Well, you did just yawn. "Yes, I am... content, I think."

Toriel nods, and smiles softly as she takes in your outfit one last time. "Sleep well, my child."

The image fades out, and you stare into your phone for a long moment. _My child_. Toriel rarely calls you that these days - not because she does not think of you that way, but at your own discomfited request. Asgore knows your sins, and you his. It was comparatively easy to call him father again. But to call Toriel your mother...

No. You are still not ready for that. You may never be. Even being called her child hurts, deep down.

Deep breaths. She loves you. She simply forgot. She will allow you your boundaries, and she will wait until you can call her the role she has always striven to fill in _her_ place.

"So," you say as you slide your phone away. "You were saying?"

Alphys swallows. "Well, um, if you ever want to try? I'd be happy to! And, um, of course we'd go at a really quiet time of day..."

You look for a long moment at yourself in the mirror. _You're beautiful, Chara!_ you hear again, even as you feel an itch begin to flash over your arms. You glance at Alphys, but she is already at the door. She nods quickly to you as she closes it, and you hastily start to work yourself out of your clothes as carefully as you can.

For a moment, you feel the urge to open a valve, to let the tension and the voices and the half-remembered sensation of hurting and being hurt bubble out of you. With far more mercy than you yourself possess, however, the feelings pass, and you are left idly itching at your arms as you get dressed and carefully rehang your robes.

A thought occurs to you. Is this the reason? Do you only eschew such clothing because of your trauma? But in that case...

You hang your head for a long moment, just breathing slowly. When you open the door, you are calm again. "I will need Frisk there," you point out. "For support. And I will also need Asri to _not_ be there."

Alphys blinks, taken aback in about a half-dozen ways. "A-asriel, not there? W-wouldn't you want his support too?"

You pinch the bridge of your nose. "Alphys, if there is one thing I know from growing up with my boyfriend, it is that he cannot differentiate inequality from inequity. If I am allowed to do something to him, it is nearly impossible to convince him he is not allowed to do it to me." You grin, sharp and nasty and frightening. "And growing up, I teased the _shit_ out of that fluffy-headed goat."

Alphys nods slowly. "Oh, uh... y-yeah, I see."

"I cannot make promises," you point out. "Even a simple skirt could send me over the edge."

Alphys fidgets on the spot. "Then... why push yourself that hard?"

A moment ago, you would have agreed with her. "How I present myself should be my decision. If I decide, for myself, that I do not want to wear skirts or present even a little feminine, that is fine. But I do not want what they did to me to decide for me." You pause. "And... honestly, I want to know. I want to know if I actually do enjoy dressing that way. And the only way I can even attempt to find out is in an environment of support. Like the one you and Frisk can provide for me."

Alphys nods. "And if you decide you want to, there are ways to work on not being affected as much by, y'know... that stuff... I-I'll be happy to help you, if I can!"

You touch her frill carefully. "Let's just focus on what lies at hand right now, first. It is not even certain that I will be able to take this trip in the first place."

Alphys holds out her tail. "And that's fine! If you never in your life wear a skirt, that's not bad!"

You take her tail, and grin brightly. "Admit it. You're looking forward to this."

Alphys nods shyly, but turns around and leads you back down instead of replying. Nothing else really needs to be said, and you pass the ride back in silence save for Hisaishi.

Undyne meets you both at the door with a grin - and a hug, once she makes certain of your acquiescence. (Honestly, you could do without, but the day is almost spent. You might as well burn just a little more of your budget.) She proceeds to drag Alphys off to bed, despite her protests of work to do and instruments to check and the measuring chamber to remodel and... well, and then you are left alone with, as always, your choice of places to curl up and sleep.

The old couch creaks gently as you settle on to it. You know perfectly well that it routinely holds the weight of a monitor lizard and a skeleton, so you chalk this sound up to it welcoming the human who occasionally adds their weight on top of the other two.

Your phone buzzes quietly just as you're about to lay down, and you glance at the message. **hold on.** is all it says.

Rising up on your knees, you glance over the back of the couch. The door is open, and despite clearly not being in the hall at any point, after a moment Sans steps through it. He nods and strolls over to behind the couch too. "thought you might want this. alphys likes things kinda cool down here."

You have faced far, far worse cold, but you are hardly inclined to say no even before Sans shows you the blanket he brought. It's one of Frisk's spare blankets - one you wove yourself. When you nod and lie down, he unfurls it with a deft motion and lets it drift down over you. And that... that is much better. It only grows more pleasant when the magic Gerson worked into the weave kicks in, and suddenly the blanket feels far heavier than it actually is. For a moment, as you curl instinctively onto your side, you can imagine Frisk sprawled out on top of you, nestling down with that sublimely sweet smile on their sleepy face.

"Thanks," you murmur softly.

Sans' voice is gentle. "no worries. you've got plenty of nights to catch up on." He leans over when you glance up. "lemme know tomorrow night if us three misting together is on, okay?" Then he withdraws, and you know that if you did sit up to look, he would have already walked through the door and vanished entirely from the lab.

So you do not sit up. Instead you curl a little further, and let your eyes rest for the moment on Kythra's gently shining soul. You can feel your thoughts dividing and your focus splintering. Good. You are more than ready for today to come to an end.

Not that today was _bad_. Part of your mind engages in some reflection, and it concludes that it was well worth getting up rather than staying under the covers. But that remains an option for tomorrow too, and an option it is not unthinkable you will take. It is also an option that you will have the choice to make. Undyne will certainly try to coax you, but if you remain adamant on staying here under this blanket, she will respect that. And much as you enjoy tearing terrible old movies to shreds alongside Alphys and Sans, or joining in a certain luckless satellite resident and his robotic companions doing the same, you may very well simply not be able to participate, and Sans knows it well. You appreciate, in fact, him very deliberately _not_ assuming that you will be.

None of this is to say you plan to spend tomorrow curled up in bed. But perhaps you will. You cannot predict how you will feel in the morning, after a long day spent almost totally in the company of others. And... perhaps Shelta is right, and you have pushed yourself hard enough that you will regret doing so, come the morning. You will simply have to wait and see.

Sleep encroaches further on your mind. Your eyelids are heavy...

You are, all told, satisfied with today. How you will feel tomorrow and what you will be able to or desire to do remains to be seen - in the morning.

After all, just as every day is, tomorrow is its own day.


End file.
